Adele: Side Stories
by MsLyoness
Summary: Spinoff, oh yes. While Bishamonten and Shashi are being clueless and hiding things, everyone else is going about their lives. From Kujaku to Karura to Kendappa, behind the scenes is just as interesting, and actually funnier.
1. Let's Play a Lovegame

**Chapter One: Let's Play a Lovegame**

_Yasha thinks Kujaku's a little… odd, yet quite desirable. Kujaku thinks Yasha needs to have fun, and it's his solemn duty to show him a good time._

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(Author's Notes: Here it is, the tale of Yasha the grumpy assistant and Kujaku the off-the-wall secretary! Welcome to the first installment of the prequel/behind-the-scenes/sequel of "Adele." It'll all make sense later, really.

I'd really recommend reading that one first, because although this first installment takes place before Shashi shows back up, most later chapters will take place during and after the events of that fic, and there are lots of spoilers in this one. You don't _have _to read it first until chapter 7 here, but it would sure help. And each installment has different main characters, but of course everybody shows up in others where they're not the protagonists.

Oh, just so you know, Kujaku's dad isn't Tentei, because I couldn't work that in believably. Mr. Vern Kujaku _is _the CEO of Tenkai Corporation [for now], but we don't see him very much so it's not a big deal.

Warnings: homosexuality [duh], mention of self-pleasure, alcohol consumption, violent flights of fancy, Kujaku dating women and hopping into bed with at least one of them, and Yasha being somewhat pervy. And adult language, and un-explicit mansex, and Vahyu abuse. Oh, and no Ashura as Yasha's ward/adopted son/whatever creepy sort of love interest CLAMP made him into by the end. Plus shameless utilization of Lady Gaga's "Lovegame."

If you can handle all those warnings, prepare for paperclip sculptures, unsuspecting Bishamonten, and fangirls attacking poor Yasha. Plus a number of Monty Python references. Also, since this site refuses to let you type email or web addresses even if they're part of the story as they are here, you'll just have to deal with some nonsense to make sense of such things. Silly site.)

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(July 16th, 2001, in a club called "Caliente")

"Why _sure_ you can buy me a drink," Victor Kujaku smiled at the babe on his right, his shirt completely open and his sunglasses on top of his head. "That's very progressive of you."

It was Miami during the summer, and the club was jumpin'. Sexiness abounded, dirty dancing was the order of the day, and the deejay wouldn't stop scratching the discs and yelling things like, "Hootie-hooo!" It was quite a change from the skyscraper of Tenkai Corporation, Kujaku knew. He'd hated ties, his CEO dad had insisted that he refrain from jokes, and all the other executives had politely declined his heartfelt invitations to a dance party. Stick-in-the-muds, all of them.

Why, the head of Expansion, one Arthur Taishakuten, had given him a downright scathing look before he returned to his email, the one whose heading said "Revolution." Kujaku had managed to see who it was going to be sent to before Taishakuten had minimized the thing: rbishamonten at northland (period) (nettle), azouchouten at castlesouth (period) (comma), djikokuten at namaste (period) (nettle), and xkoumokuten at battlefield (period) (comma).

Kujaku _had _gotten the distinct sense that maybe his dad should be alerted, but heck, it wasn't _his _problem, because that very week he'd resigned and hopped into his Mercedes for Florida. So what if Taishie (no one _ever _called that man "Arthur") was planning a takeover? Kujaku was going to Miami, baby, where every day was a party and he'd never have to see a pie chart again!

That had been a year ago, and while there had been no pie charts, he was getting a little tired of all the partying. It had been fun at first, but really, how many wet t-shirt contests could you watch before you got tired of fake boobs? How many piña coladas could you imbibe before you started to shudder at the sight of a pineapple?

Oh well. Maybe Progressive Babe would actually have an intelligent conversation with him instead of trying to get into his pants. She grinned at him and waved the bartender over, asking, "What would you like?"

He thought for a moment. So far this year he'd had every kind of drink known to man (or close enough), and only half of them had been good. So…

"I'd like a mimosa, please," he smiled, fiddling with his necklace. It was a slender chain with an enameled crow pendant in stainless steel, and he liked it better than the giant platinum "YO" neck bling he'd started out with. It was much more true to his character.

"A mimosa it is," she cooed, and the bartender obediently went to make it. "So, my name's Yvonne. What's yours?"

"Fred," he lied cheerfully, because her name probably wasn't Yvonne and there was no sense leaving clues for a stalker to follow. He'd just gotten rid of one, and it sucked. Why did some women think a nice guy with a nice body could be ignored when he said he wasn't interested?

"So, Fred… do you come here a lot?" she asked, pushing a strand of bright pink hair behind her ear. Clearly this one was a rebel as well as progressive, which Kujaku took to be a good sign. He liked rebels.

"Oh, just about every night," he replied, which was true. Being a wealthy CEO's son meant he hadn't had to work, which he now was thinking had been a bad move. After all, he was getting so damn bored, and a job would provide structure, for real.

"You must be a real partier," she smiled. "I guess you must deal with the inevitable hangovers well, because otherwise you'd lose your job!"

Kujaku considered saying, "I don't have a job, I don't need one," but that would probably make little dollar signs pop up in her eyes, and she'd try to make him fall in love with her. Or just sire a child with her, which would mean hefty child support payments. What an awful thing to do, but it happened, no one could deny that.

So he chuckled, "Oh, I can hold my liquor. Lots of practice! But yeah, at first it was an uphill struggle. So, do _you _come here a lot?"

"Every so often," she told him, still smiling. "You know, I'm honestly not one for partying day in, day out. It's certainly fun, but y'know, it kinda gets stale after a while. I do enjoy it every now and again, but doing it constantly is something I'd rather not do."

Kujaku lit up. A kindred soul!

"That is so true," he told her fervently. "Yvonne, I was just thinking that it gets boring! It's getting to the point where I want to just hang out at home, and that would be more fun."

"So why do you keep doing it?" she asked him, patting his shoulder almost maternally. "Is it because you don't know what else to do? People can get addicted to partying, you know, leaving aside all the alcohol and the occasional drugs. Maybe it's time to take a step back and think about what's most important to you."

"That's the thing," he sighed as the bartender set his drink in front of him. "I don't _know _what I want. It's like I'm just kinda… loose from my moorings, and I need something or somebody to tie me down again, in a _beneficial _way."

"Hmm."

She thought for a moment as he sipped his drink. It was good, he'd always liked mimosas, but he'd had so many lately that they too were becoming passé to his needing-to-be-stimulated self. He honestly _could_ hold his liquor very well, but he tended not to get smashed just for the sake of getting smashed.

But maybe, just maybe, this woman might provide that mental stimulation. She seemed nice, and intelligent, and insightful, and she didn't like the clubs too much either. Unless of course she was just lying, but he had the sense she wasn't. Maybe the universe had decided that Victor Vernal Kujaku had been lonely and bored long enough, and had sent him a pal who might become something more.

"Listen, Fred," she finally sighed, "you seem like a nice guy. I think what you need to do is find a _purpose_. Doesn't have to be a woman, doesn't have to be a friend, doesn't even have to be a job, but maybe you should consider giving something back. Volunteering, perhaps. I volunteer at the homeless shelter, and it's very rewarding. Trying at times, but ultimately rewarding."

"Did you come over here just to give me a direction?" he asked seriously. "Did you see how I'm not really having fun, and wanted to help? If so…"

"Well, no," she told him with a smile. "But I mean it anyway. I came over for a different reason, actually, one you probably don't suspect. See, my boyfriend and I recently decided that we'd –"

"Break up?" Kujaku asked a bit desperately, because a woman with a boyfriend was _not _someone he wanted to get involved with. Nuh-uh, no chance, sorry pal.

"Add someone else," she said quickly, and before he could respond she rushed on, "Now, you wouldn't have to do anything with him, and –"

"Absolutely, positively, over my dead body no," he snapped. Not only had she only come over here to try to get him to have sex with her, she wanted to involve him in a ménage a trois! Which he had no desire to do, and so much for liking _this_ rebel.

She sighed, looking very disappointed, but backed off with much more grace than he'd expected: "Oh, all right. Too bad, I like you. Well, anyway, I hope you find something worthwhile soon, Fred," she smiled, and with a wave she stood up and left.

Kujaku glared at her retreating back, which had a neat tattoo of a koi, and drained his mimosa grumpily. See, clubs were not the place to look for a life partner, or even an honest heart-to-heart conversation. Starting tomorrow, he'd…

Hmm. He'd hang out at the beach all by himself? He'd go to a museum? He'd try to get back into working? He'd shut all his shades and watch a marathon of every "Rocky" movie ever made, and give up on doing something with his life? Well, not that last one, but it was time to face the fact that he was adrift in a sea of meaningless sex and shallow relationships. And (he glowered at the deejay) really dumb hip-hop music.

So he set his glass down with more force than was necessary, stood up, and walked out the door with a frown still on his face. His car, his lovely black Mercedes with the license plate holder of a tribal design, gleamed in the light of the parking lot when he reached it. He took good care of that car, it had gotten him all the way down here, and he sometimes talked to it like it was a pet or a baby.

"Car," he grumbled as he unlocked it, "we are never coming back to Caliente again. Instead, we're going to find a new scene. She had a point about the worthwhile thing, so maybe I _will _look into volunteering. And there's one nice thing to come out of this: I'll never have to hear a bad mix of a good song again if I don't want to."

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The next morning was a laid-back one. Instead of partying on the beach for the zillionth time, Kujaku spent it reading the paper and brainstorming ideas for what he could do with his life. At eleven-thirty in the morning he put his pen down and sighed, because he hadn't gotten anything really jumping out at him, and he had something to do anyway.

It was time to water the plants. Kujaku liked his plants, because they all had names and listened very attentively whenever he talked about his problems. There were five of them: Milo the spider plant, Binkley the orchid, Opus the potted fern, Bill the cactus, and Oliver the potted palm. Bill rarely needed water, and Kujaku had marked on his calendar the days when he did, but Opus needed water near-constantly and everybody else needed it daily. Kujaku kept a special watering can near Oliver, and a spray bottle near Opus because ferns liked to be misted. He got watered too, but the misting was a _ritual_.

Just as he was raising the spray bottle, his phone rang. He rolled his eyes, pulled his cell out, and blinked in surprise at the number displayed. That was his parents' number. For the first few months he'd been down here they'd called constantly, but they'd then figured out that he wasn't coming back. His father, Vern, had made a lot of "prodigal son" speeches, and his mother Sonya had begged and wheedled and cajoled, but nada. He loved them and all, but they were annoying, honestly.

But they hadn't called for weeks, and then it was always in the evening. What was so important that they'd call in the late morning? Had someone died? He sure hoped not. Or maybe Vern's blood pressure had finally gotten too high and he'd had a stroke? Ditto.

"Hello?" Kujaku said warily. "Mom? Dad? What's up?"

"Victor," Vern bawled, "that bastard Taishakuten from Expansion toppled me! He got four heads of smaller companies to band together and buy a majority share, and he persuaded all the executives from ours to vote me off the board!"

"Bummer," Kujaku shrugged, spritzing Opus.

"No son, this goes _beyond_ 'bummer'!" Vern snarled, and Kujaku could picture his dad banging his fist down onto the kitchen table. "I barely escaped with my golden parachute! I'm left with mere millions!" he said dramatically, with no concept whatsoever of how incredibly spoiled and lucky he sounded.

"That sucks," Kujaku replied breezily, pinching off a stray bud. "What're you gonna do now?"

Silence, then Sonya's voice could be heard, wailing, "Victor, what did you say to your father?! He's crying into his hands!" she snapped, and he could picture her shaking a finger at the phone like he could see her.

"Mom, he needs to lighten up," Kujaku sighed as he went back into the kitchen to refill the spritzer. "He always said working so hard elevated his blood pressure, so now he can concentrate on his hobbies! Give him another model airplane kit, it'll make him feel better."

"It's the _principle _of the thing," she hissed. "His own underling overthrew him! And promoted outsiders into the positions of Senior Vice Presidents!"

"They must be so proud of their _clever_ little ploy," Kujaku smiled. "Do you think they're wearing party hats right now and singing 'Hail to the Chief' while Taishakuten goes through Dad's desk?" That was an exceedingly amusing mental image, and he barely refrained from snickering.

"Victor!" Sonya downright howled. "This is _not _funny! Your father was betrayed by the board and tossed out on his ear! Taishakuten even took his parking spot after having his car towed!"

"What a bastard," Kujaku said solemnly, then ruined it with, "Do you think he'll keep Casual Fridays?"

Angry silence, then Sonya gritted, "Be serious for once in your life. Just think what would have happened to _you _if you hadn't bailed on your poor father and run off to Miami! You would have been fired too, and Taishakuten would have given your position to one of those cutthroat minions of his! They're walking around the office like they _own _it, and one of the executive secretaries did the brave thing and quit before she had to work for this new regime! I want to send each and every one of them a mail bomb."

Kujaku was about to point out that if the minions had a majority share they did, in fact, own Tenkai Corporation, but he desisted. Instead, an idea had been planted in his mind.

Being an executive had sucked, but being a _secretary… _that would provide a challenge, and this way no one would bow and scrape as he walked past, because Vern was old hat anyway! Yes, he could continue at business, which he was brilliant at, but have a life outside of the office. Plus he wouldn't have to feel bad about stepping on the little people, because he wouldn't have that power.

So after he hung up, he turned on his computer and researched the new regime at Tenkai Corporation. It was a small story in the business news community, as Tenkai Corporation wasn't a giant in the industry, but it was enough to tell him that his parents had been accurate. Good ol' Arthur Taishakuten had allied himself with four cronies, all of which were former CEOs or high-ranking executives in even smaller companies prior to this. Kujaku sure hoped they knew what they'd gotten themselves into, because Taishakuten was bordering on a sociopath.

But it was true: they were now the new heads of Expansion, Marketing, Research and Development, and Real Estate. Kujaku crossed his fingers that the R & D guy would treat his people well, because he had fond memories of many of them.

Kujaku had been hired straight out of college as an executive, overwhelmingly because he was Vern's only child. He _was _very good at business, but everyone else had to start out small and work their ways up, as was the logical course of action. Many of them had resented him, but a greater number had actually come to like him a lot, they just thought he shouldn't be the Senior Vice President of Research and Development.

So he spent hours pulling up info on all the minions, and especially on Taishakuten, and drew up his plan of attack. It would be bold, full-frontal, and he wouldn't take "no" for an answer! He would walk into that CEO's office and demand a meeting, and his charm and intelligence would take care of the rest.

And he would call the guy "Artie," he decided. Such an irreverent nickname might very well knock Taishakuten for a loop, thus giving Kujaku an advantage. If there was one thing he'd learned, it was that when people got flustered, they agreed to things they wouldn't have otherwise.

Singing an inspiring song ("All or Nothing" by Cher), he got himself a plane ticket back to Zenmi for tomorrow, and a hotel room, because staying in Vern's house while he was trying to get a job with Taishakuten would be a recipe for disaster. If he got the job he'd get an apartment or maybe a house, but first he needed to convince "Artie" to hire him.

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At ten o'clock the next morning, Kujaku strolled on into the lobby of the Tenkai Corporation skyscraper like he had every right to be there. The two security guards on duty looked at him, did a double take, and gasped aloud. Yes, the prodigal son had returned!

"Hey guys!" he greeted with a wave. "It's been a while, huh?"

The security, whose names were Tanya and Tony, waved back, and Tony said incredulously, "Well look who's here! I thought you swore you'd never set foot in this skyscraper ever again, Victor."

Kujaku had made a habit of being nice to the low-level cogs in the Tenkai Corporation machinery, unlike most executives. He'd known them by name for one, and asked how they were doing, and given them little gift baskets when it was their birthdays. They'd remembered this, and more than one of the security force had been sad to see him go.

"So, I'd like to go through please," he said, as matter-of-factly as he could. "Important business, doncha know. I'm back here to throw myself into this company again, and this time, I'll stay with it."

"Oh, has Mr. Taishakuten offered you a position?" Tony asked hopefully.

"He sure has!" Kujaku lied, so well no one would suspect it. "But it's all hush-hush, which is why it's probably not on your security list. Can't say any more, you know how these deals work," he finished, giving them a conspiratorial wink.

And they bought it. They handed him a visitor's pass, and waved as he headed to the elevators. He waved back, a cheery smile on his face, and couldn't help but hope that if things went wrong, Taishakuten would believe them when they said he'd used his silver tongue to get past them, and they weren't at fault.

But before he headed to Taishakuten's floor, he stopped at the one below it: his old stomping grounds, the Senior VP level. He was curious as to what the new guys were like, and so he strolled down the hallway alert for any new faces throwing their weight around.

"HA-ha-ha-ha-HAA!"

At this diabolical laugh, Kujaku turned around, intrigued. Bertram Hiddleby, the old head of Marketing, was cowering and scuttling out of the door to his office, his elderly face set in a mask of what looked like terror. The reason for this apprehension? A tall man clad all in black, no suit jacket and a tie that had little red skulls on it, grinning and shoving a box into Bertram's hands. His eyes were incredibly creepy, his face was long and had prominent cheekbones, and the almost gleefully evil smile he wore clinched Kujaku's appraisal: bad guy.

"So Bertie," he chortled nastily, flicking a low ponytail back over his shoulder, "enjoy your forced retirement. This is the dawn of a new era in Marketing, that of Xavier Koumokuten! HA-ha-ha-HA!"

Bertram quavered, "Please… please, treat my assistants well! They're good people! And Charles has a sick mother, and –"

"Sucks to be that broad," Koumokuten said breezily. "Don't tell me how to treat _my _underlings, Bertie. Oh, and here's your grandkid's picture."

He dumped a framed photo into the box, sneering, "I don't need it. And by the way, my daughter was much cuter than that! She could've won one of those 'Beautiful Baby' photo contests, and this kid has a pig-snout nose and weird hair."

Kujaku wondered if he should step in and defend Bertram here. The old man was a kindly gent who doted on his young grandson and gave his employees generous holiday bonuses, something Kujaku could already tell this Koumokuten character wouldn't do. Not to mention that Bertram kept getting awards from his church for "Kindness in Business."

He was just opening his mouth to say something, but Bertram was already sighing, "Good luck to you then," and hurrying down the hallway. Koumokuten went back into his new office with a triumphant expression on his face, humming "Bad to the Bone." Kujaku blinked, and filled in the "Marketing VP" mental box with the word "villain."

"Xavier is a very… belligerent man," a calm male voice came from behind Kujaku. He turned to see another tall man, this one with his low ponytail half gathered and a tie with the "OHM" symbol. He looked almost serene, and was smiling like he knew everything would all work out in the end.

"Hi," Kujaku greeted, fully prepared to launch into a lie about how he was from the government, here to make sure things were legal. "My name's Victor Johnson. What's yours?"

"I'm Darrel Jikokuten," the other man replied, "and I do believe your last name is 'Kujaku,' not 'Johnson.' The former CEO's son, if I'm not mistaken. How lovely to meet you."

Hmm, this one was more observant than Koumokuten. Kujaku wondered if he should try to lie, but Jikokuten was looking him right in the eye, smiling a bit and with one eyebrow raised. Clearly, he knew what he was talking about, and a lie would just mean trouble sooner rather than later. So Kujaku shrugged, held his palms up, and nervously grinned, "Guilty as charged, Darrel."

"So what brings you back here, Victor Kujaku?" Jikokuten asked solemnly. "I hope it's not revenge of some sort, as you will not only fail and be punished, it will come back to haunt you. It's best to accept the things we cannot change, and I can assure you, you cannot change Taishakuten's control over this company."

"No, not revenge," Kujaku told him firmly. "I actually wanna be part of this. I'm not here to engage in corporate espionage, just to ask for a job."

"Life moves in cycles," Jikokuten murmured, a slight, knowing smile on his face. "We keep coming back to places, people, and situations we or people associated with us know. The rhythm of our lives ebbs and flows, and if we just pay attention to it, it will tell us where we need to be."

Most businesspeople would have snorted, "Um, Darrel? This isn't philosophy class, and you sound like a New-Age wacko, not an executive. Go back to your office and help crush Tenkai Corporation's enemies, you loony." But Kujaku was impressed. Finally, a businessman with a spiritual side! Maybe he'd found a friend here. So he complimented, "That's very insightful. Sounds rather Eastern in philosophy."

"Well, I am a Buddhist," Jikokuten informed him. "You will see that I incorporate many teachings of Siddhartha Gautama into my life, and my work. Would you like some tea? I always have some green tea ready," he offered with a broader smile.

"I'd love to have some, but I have to be going. I need to talk to Taishakuten, that's why I'm here," Kujaku regretfully replied. "But listen, if I succeed here and get hired, I'll take you up on that offer, Darrel ol' pal. Er, new pal, but you get the drift, I hope," he said gaily, turning to go with a wave.

And Kujaku _did _get his secretary's position. Taishakuten assigned him to the second-most powerful man in the company, Reginald Bishamonten, the new Senior Vice President of Expansion. Bishamonten was pleased with his new underling's intelligence, dedication, and hard work, but not so pleased by his ways of occupying himself when he'd finished what he'd been ordered to do.

Kujaku was very good at business. One might even say he was exceptional at it, and as such was able to fly through his tasks and fool around. Bishamonten was reluctant to give up the best secretary he'd ever had, and decided that surely, _surely _Kujaku would soon settle down into normalcy.

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(January 21st, 2008)

James Yasha took a deep breath and centered himself as the elevator climbed ever higher. Oh, interviews were never fun, and this one was kind of his "stretching it" interview, the one for his dream position. His current job wasn't challenging at all, but this one would be, very much so.

Assistant to a Senior Vice President, in the company dubbed "The corporation to keep an eye on for the next ten years, and certainly the biggest climber we've ever seen" by "Business Weekly": Tenkai Corporation, purveyor of electronic gadgets that was starting to rival Microsoft. Its CEO had taken a merely okay company and turned it into a phenomenal, worldwide company, in only seven years. Amazing.

He stepped out of the elevator, asked a passing woman in the halls which way to Mr. Bishamonten's office, and found it in no time at all. Opening the outer door, he was greeted with the sight of a handsome man with purple eyes and purplish-black hair typing furiously, humming a little tune to himself. Before Yasha could introduce himself, the man spoke.

"Ah, you must be the next contestant! Welcome, welcome. You _are _here for the interview, yes?" he asked, smiling a brilliant smile.

"I am. I'm James Yasha."

"Great," the apparent secretary grinned. "Just so you know, you're number seven. Lucky number seven, hopefully! And there's no less than eight more after you, and most of the applicants didn't make it to the interview stage."

"The position opened up suddenly," Yasha said cautiously. "I was just lucky to have refreshed the page, because it was there from one second to the next, and I'm sure there were a lot of applicants. Do you know why his last assistant left?"

"Klaus set his desk on fire," the secretary said cheerfully. "It was hilarious! Reginald had been ripping into him for all his mistakes, and he just _snapped_. He pulled out his lighter, and before Reginald could do anything he ignited the pile of papers on the desk, screaming about sticking it to the man. Then the smoke detector went off and the sprinklers came on, soaking both of them and putting the fire out, but not before the desk caught fire too. I'd come in to see what all the screaming was about, and I saw Reginald _vault _the desk and start to strangle him!

"So needless to say," he finished with a grin, "Klaus doesn't work here anymore."

Yasha simply stared for a moment, a sudden seed of hope sprouting in his soul. _He _would never set anyone's desk on fire, and he was good at taking abuse and never saying a word in return. Maybe this executive was a terror, which would work to Yasha's advantage. He could deal with terrors, a lot better than most people could.

"Anyway, go ahead and take a seat," the secretary said cheerfully. "He'll be out soon, he's good about being punctual. But he likes to make interviewees wait, y'know, just to make 'em sweat. To see if they'll crack under pressure, although I somehow have the sense it would take a major disaster to make _you _crack."

"Yes, I'm very calm," Yasha assured him, sitting down and folding his hands in his lap. "It's one of my strengths, being able to handle stress."

The secretary nodded, smiled some more, and went back to his typing. For a few minutes there was near-silence as Yasha visualized himself doing well and the other man rapidly compiled a table of contents… and then the phone rang.

With an evil grin, the secretary picked the phone up and sang, " 'Allo, you 'ave reached zee offeece of Rezzinald Beeshamontahn! I am Veector, 'ow may I 'elp you today?"

If Yasha hadn't just been talking to him in regular English, he would have sworn that man was French. As it was, his jaw dropped at this insane method of communication. What the heck was going on here? Was the guy bipolar, or something?

"Oh no, 'e is bizee right now! But eef you leave your contact eenformation, I shall make sure 'e calls you back, very fast! …Paul Zohnsen? …Zat eez what I zaid! Paul Zohnsen! …J-O-H-N-S-O-N, my good man. …Oh-ho-ho-ho, no, I am _French! _Why do you theenk I 'ave zees out_rageous _accént?"

Yasha was just wondering if the guy had recently watched "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" when the door slammed open, and a new voice barked, "Victor! You are _not_ French! Stop this idiocy, I mean it!"

Yasha stared at the man he hoped to work for. Reginald Bishamonten had, to be blunt, the silliest hair he'd ever seen. It was bright red, bordering on fuchsia, and the style was insane: short front and sides, long strands in front of his ears, and the rest in a long, high ponytail. He did have a very handsome face and very lovely eyes, but sheesh.

He caught sight of Yasha and smiled, "Ah. Mr. Yasha. Please ignore the dolt of a secretary and come back to my office."

Yasha obeyed, and as he closed the door behind him, he heard the dolt of a secretary say seriously, "Oh, no no no! I am from Lyons, not Paree! But Monsieur Zohnsen, I am sure 'e weel call you back soon…"

The interview went well. Very well, in fact. Yasha began to have the sense that just maybe, he might get this dream job. Well, he _was _exceptional at what he did, and he poured a lot of time and effort into staying that way. He kept abreast of any developments there might be the remotest chance of him having to know about, and he was good with technology too.

"Your application mentions that you're a double black belt in taekwondo," Bishamonten murmured, after much discussion of what Yasha would do in a number of hypothetical situations. "That to me demonstrates that you're dedicated, because one doesn't get to be that advanced without an awful lot of hard work. Do you compete, or do you simply teach?"

"I do both, sir," Yasha responded, feeling a bit proud. "I've won numerous awards, and I think it's important to pass on to others what I've learned."

"That's a good attitude to have," Bishamonten complimented with a slight smile. "Applying your talents is something everyone should do. For example, my wife is a painter, and she recently finished a piece she's donating to a charity auction for battered women. But in the business sense, application of one's talents is even more important."

The rest of the interview went just as well, maybe even better, so when Yasha found a message on his phone only six days later, he had good reason to believe he'd gotten the job. And when he promptly returned the call in the men's room of his current office for cover, he was offered the position.

Ha! No more would he have to work for a boss who would hit on him in between demanding stupid things, and relying on him to do her work for her. So goodbye, Sharon Smith, because now he would be working for a straight man, one who had the reputation of being very hardworking and dedicated.

.

When he showed up extra early the next day, he was correct that this would make a good impression. In fact, he got the same elevator as Bishamonten. After much shaking of hands and thanks for hiring Yasha, and assurances that he'd work incredibly hard, they entered the reception area to find the not-French secretary already there, hanging up his coat and humming.

"And this," Bishamonten nodded to him, "is Victor Kujaku, my secretary. I'm sure you two will get on famously."

"We'll be fast friends," Kujaku said exuberantly, seizing Yasha's hand and pumping it up and down. "I had a hunch this one would get the job, Reginald! He'll be a good fit, I can tell already, and he won't set your desk on fire, I'll bet you my entire comic book collection.

"I wanna sing him a song of welcome," he continued, bright as could be. "Something like, oh… 'Welcome James – You'll learn our names – We like making gobs of money – Reginald's hairstyle's really funny!' "

"Right, stop that. Silly," Bishamonten snapped, just like a British colonel who brooked no silliness. All he needed were the uniform, the hat, the accent, and a Graham Chapman mustache, Yasha couldn't help but think. And the riding crop, for good measure.

Bishamonten continued, "Now, James, for the first few days I expect you to make some mistakes, it's only natural. For the first few weeks, I will forgive you any, because there's a lot to learn. However, I have the expectation that you will endeavor to learn as much and as fast as you can, and try to minimize those slip-ups whenever possible."

But Yasha made very few mistakes, considering. Bishamonten said a lot, but Yasha had an exceptional memory and picked things up fast. So finally Bishamonten smiled, "Well, take a lunch break, James. You've earned it. The cafeteria's on the same floor as the lobby, clearly labeled and on the left from the elevators."

When Yasha exited Bishamonten's office, he found a startling sight. Kujaku was adding paperclips to some sort of sculpture, which could have been the bare bones of an Eastern dragon. It was long and thin, and had four legs, a thin tail, and a triangular head. The paperclips had all been twisted out of their normal shape and re-twisted into a myriad of others, and Kujaku was obviously having fun with this.

"Why are you doing that instead of working?" Yasha asked snappishly. "And what is it?"

"It's gonna be a ferret," Kujaku said proudly. "When I get to the outer part, I'll use silver paperclips for most of it and black and white paperclips for the appropriate coloration, like on its feet and head and tail. Cool, huh? It's gonna be a _happy _ferret, frozen in the act of bouncing around."

Yasha was nonplussed. What kind of secretary was this? Maybe this was all some sort of elaborate prank, just to see what he'd do.

"You should be working," he lectured, his hands on his hips. "Or I'm going to tell Mr. Bishamonten. This is an office, not an art studio, and if you were trying to make me say something like, 'I want to slack off too, don't tell him,' you're doomed to disappointment."

"Oh no, this is no trap!" Kujaku laughed. "And I finished all my assignments for now. This is just for when I'm bored! Reginald hasn't written me up or fired me for it yet, so it's okay. You heading to lunch? I'd go with you but I've already eaten, so tomorrow maybe."

"All right," Yasha said over his shoulder. "But I'm still mentioning this to Mr. Bishamonten."

When he reached the cafeteria, he was confronted with a smorgasbord of choices. He decided to go with spaghetti and meatballs, he liked that. He was just thanking the cafeteria worker for his plate of it when someone purred, "Well well. I haven't seen _you _here before."

He turned around to see a man with wavy, blond hair; a face that rivaled some women's in beauty; and pants that were far too tight to be normal business attire. He was standing a little too close for comfort, and Yasha warily replied, "This is my first day. I'm Mr. Bishamonten's new assistant, James Yasha."

"I," the other man said proudly, "am Charles Vahyu, head of the Advertising division. You will find that without me, we'd be making a lot less money. I am a creative genius, and as such am given the leeway to do what I want in this company. Xavie – Mr. Koumokuten to everyone else – often says I'm indispensable," he bragged, tossing that gorgeous head of hair.

Yasha hadn't met Koumokuten yet, but Kujaku had described him as "the violent-minded mutha to end all violent-minded muthas, and ugly enough to make small children cry for their mommies. Everybody here hates him, except for Taishakuten and his fellow Senior VPs. But you didn't hear that from me."

"Anyway, I noticed you from my spot and decided to introduce myself," Vahyu continued. "You seem to be a fine figure of a man, with such _long_ hair."

"I'm, um, nothing special," Yasha cautiously returned. Was the guy setting him up for some sort of cutting comment?

"I just _love _men with long hair," Vahyu purred, reaching a hand out to toy with a dark brown strand as Yasha stared in shock. "James… you want to join me for lunch? I can show you my tongue trick with a hotdog."

As people either gasped at this audacity or started giggling in the background, Yasha was suddenly furious. What kind of perv was this?! Didn't the man realize that was killer ammo for a lawsuit? And nobody touched him without his say-so unless he was sparring! So without a word, he lifted up his lunch tray and dumped the spaghetti over Vahyu's well-conditioned, perfectly styled, and very pretty head.

"NO!" he snarled as the cafeteria workers started cheering. "Leave me alone!"

Vahyu gasped in furious shock, a meatball falling onto the floor as he did so, and Yasha wondered if he were about to attack him while screeching something like, "Tomato sauce is bad for my follicles!"

A sudden bass guffaw and applause from behind him made Yasha turn, his face still red in anger, as Vahyu clenched his hands into trembling fists but resisted any bitchslapping. A tall man with incredibly broad shoulders and a barrel chest grinned at Yasha, and he blinked in surprise at his (blue) facial hair.

_Sideburns? Technically, but I've never seen sideburns that long. What is __with__ this company and its odd hairstyles? _Yasha couldn't help but wonder.

"I think you just hit on the wrong man, Charles," the big guy drawled, his voice a deep bass. "Maybe that'll teach you a lesson, but somehow I doubt you'll learn anything from this. So, who might you be?" he directed at Yasha.

"James. James Yasha," he answered, smirking nastily without realizing what he was doing. "I'm –"

"Ah, Reginald's new assistant. Welcome. My name's Aaron Zouchouten. I'm the Senior Vice President of Research and Development, and we'll be seeing a lot of each other. Almost every morning, Taishakuten and his 'Generals of the Boardroom' have a briefing, but today we didn't since Reginald was training you in," Zouchouten smiled.

"That's an, um, interesting nickname for the three of you," Yasha pointed out as he got some more spaghetti, and Vahyu stomped off to the bathroom to try to salvage his shirt.

"There used to be four of us," Zouchouten responded, sounding rather amused. "But Darrel, the head of Real Estate, decided he wanted to be a Buddhist monk in Nepal instead. We've got a Vice President of Real Estate now, but not a _Senior _Vice President of Real Estate. Personally, I wish him well, but Xavier and Reginald think he's insane and probably on something.

"Anyway, Taishakuten likes war metaphors. You'll learn that very quickly, I think. Here's some advice, James: treat the man as a god, and you'll be all right."

Yasha remembered that when it was a couple hours later, as he and Bishamonten headed to a conference room for a meeting with Taishakuten. On the way, they passed a beautiful woman with thick glasses, white hair worn in an elaborate and exotic style (two twists and a low ponytail), and a resigned expression.

"He's running a little late today, sir," she informed Bishamonten, then noticed Yasha and smiled, "And who's this?"

For what had to have been the tenth time today, Yasha introduced himself. He was starting to wish he had one of those "Hello, my name is: James Yasha" stickers, and a shirt that said "Reginald Bishamonten's New Assistant." It would save so much time, and he was really getting sick of telling people all that info.

"I'm Kuyou. Kuyou Seering," the woman smiled, holding out a hand to shake. "You seem nice, I can tell that already."

"Thank you," he smiled back. "You seem very nice too. How long have you worked for Mr. Taishakuten?" he queried politely, expecting some sort of reply like, "I've worked for our beloved CEO for ten years, and I serve him faithfully."

But what he got was, "Seven long, painful years, James. I'm his secretary. My sister and I split the duties, her name's Hanranya. We're identical twins, and people often get us confused. But we do wear different glasses, which no one else ever picks up on, and I switch my earrings up while she only ever wears pearls. I never wear pearls, for just that reason."

Unfortunately Bishamonten had just answered his phone, so he missed these identifying characteristics. He, like almost everyone else, could only tell Kuyou and Hanranya apart by watching them interact with Taishakuten. Hanranya adored and in fact romantically loved the man, but Kuyou fervently hated him, and it showed on both counts.

"That seems like a sensible way to handle it," Yasha complimented, making her smile. "I have to go now, but I'd certainly like to talk to you again."

"Yes, so would I. Well, have a nice day, and beware of Taishakuten," she cautioned. "That man is, without a doubt, the single most unbalanced CEO I've ever heard of. I often feel like people should count their fingers after shaking his hand."

With such a warning, Yasha was somewhat prepared for Taishakuten. And yes, Kuyou was right, he was a sociopath. But such a thing made him a genius at business, because not caring about anyone else translated to piles of moolah. Yasha resolved to smile at the man's face, and save all his complaints and well-deserved insults for the privacy of his own home, or with Kuyou.

.

One Sunday afternoon about a week later, Yasha came home from taekwondo class to find the message light blinking on his answering machine. Since he only gave his home phone number out to close friends and his family, it was likely that this was an important call. Of course, occasionally telemarketers and scammers tracked him down, and left messages about how he should refinance his mortgage and/or give them his bank account number and PIN.

Still, he crossed over to it and sighed, still wearing his uniform with his hair tied back. Hopefully this was someone he actually loved, not someone who wanted to take his money one way or another.

And indeed, it was his mother. "Hi, sweetheart. How's your new job going? Your father and I are very proud of you for landing such an important position in such a major company. I mean, James dear, we've actually _heard _of Tenkai Corporation! And you know how we tend not to pay attention to business news, or much of anything besides what immediately affects us."

That was true. Yasha's parents were a pair of kind-hearted but rather dim souls, although his dad _was _a former taekwondo champion. His mom mostly sat around and looked pretty, but her health was bad so she could be forgiven.

"So sweetheart, give us a call! We want to hear if you've made any friends there. Bye-bye, James honey!" she warbled, and the message ended. Yasha was picking up the phone as she finished, but before he could dial their number, a ring came from his doorbell.

He set the phone down a bit grouchily, stalked over to his door, and peered out the peephole. Then he started and gasped, because a purple eye with long lashes was peering right back at him! Yikes!

"Hi James!" an exuberant voice called. "It's me, Victor! I found your address in Reginald's files, and I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop by. And I have some fudge to share! Everybody likes fudge, right?"

Yasha swung his door open, a bit shocked. Kujaku waved at him and held up a pan of what looked like the most luscious, pecan-studded fudge in existence. Half of it was missing, so maybe he'd given the rest to whoever he'd been visiting. But oh boy, there was still a lot left, and Yasha was a sucker for fudge.

"That was incredibly nice of you," he said quickly. "Come on in, Victor. Although I have to say I'm a bit perturbed that you looked up my address…"

"Oh, I'm incorrigibly nosy," Kujaku said unabashedly as he walked in. "Don't worry, I'm not stalking you! I just like finding things out about people. For example, did you know Reginald's family used to own a friggin' _castle _over in England? There's a story there how they lost it, but I don't know it."

"How interesting," Yasha said politely, suddenly envisioning Bishamonten dressed in medieval king's garb and commanding, "Off with 'is 'ead, old chap! I _say!_" Then he'd demand that the peasants work harder, just like he demanded that all his underlings slave away.

"Did I interrupt something?" Kujaku asked, sounding a little worried. "I know I just dropped in unexpectedly."

"I was about to call my parents," Yasha awkwardly informed him. "I'm sorry, I really do think this was very kind of you to –"

"_Oh. _Then gee, sorry for popping on over without calling," Kujaku apologized, turning to go. "You can keep the fudge, just bring the pan back to work when you've finished it. And now, out back into the cold. Tally-ho, as exuberant British people say!"

And with a wave, he let himself out before Yasha could say, "No, you can stay! It's all right."

_James, oh James Jamesie James… poor guy never smiles, _Kujaku thought to himself as he returned to his car. _He must be one of those unfortunate people who don't have much fun, and his life must be filled with boring, stuffy… stuff. Too bad, I like him. I'd like to see him grin, really._

Kujaku decided then that one of his purposes in life was to make Yasha smile. He could do fun, friendly things with him! They were work friends already, and Kujaku liked him a lot, despite how serious he was. So, as he started his car, he vowed to begin Operation Giggles.

Back in his house, Yasha stared open-mouthed at the door, then down at the fudge. "Tally-ho"? Boy, that man said and did the strangest things.

Yasha thought Kujaku was a very odd bird, to use another British term. A competent, hard-working one yes, but really, a paperclip sculpture of a ferret? Why a ferret? And why didn't the secretary spend his excess time quietly reading a book? Yasha could suggest some very good ones, like The Way of the Samurai: Bringing Bushido into Your Daily Life. Or, in a lighter vein, The Monty Python Joke Tome, which made him laugh each time he read it.

But back to Kujaku's oddities. Why was the man allowed to be so _subversive_ to the driven business culture? Why did Bishamonten allow him to practice his silly accents with important clients, underlings, and rivals? Why did Yasha want to strip him down and have him –

He immediately crashed that train of thought, but it rose from the wreckage and tootled on. Well, because Kujaku was very attractive, Yasha was queerer than a three-dollar bill, and he hadn't had any for years, as life as an executive assistant tended to entail a lot of stress and work, and left little time for a relationship. In fact, his last relationship had ended precisely _because _he spent so much time working, and Clive had finally had enough. Kujaku, though, worked the same hours, so that problem was probably nullified right there.

And he made him laugh. Yasha didn't laugh often, but he'd found himself doing so much more with Kujaku around (they ate lunch together now). He'd probably laughed more in one week than he had in the past three months, wow. Maybe Kujaku had missed his calling as a comedian.

Yes he could be annoying, and Yasha had also growled a lot more in the past week, but he was… compelling. And very, _very _sexy, with his gorgeous face and mesmerizing eyes and near-perfect body, from what Yasha could tell. He was willing to bet the man had chiseled musculature under those shirts and pants, just judging from the way his shirts fit him.

So…

Yasha stood stock-still, thinking. It was certainly very possible that Kujaku was straighter than an arrow, although he had to imagine he wasn't homophobic. He was just too _nice_, and not religious at all from what Yasha could see, and religion was almost always the reasoning for "It's unnatural! It's sick! It's a perversion, even if two men or two women are fully committed and chaste!"

Yet if he wasn't straight, he might be just what the doctor ordered for loneliness: "Kiss Victor Kujaku twice a day, more if needed. Side effects may include sexiness, more enjoyment of life, someone to depend on, fun things to do together, and laughter."

But the thing was, Yasha wasn't really _out_, except to his parents, and he'd only told them last year. He'd figured out he was gay in his junior year of high school, but he'd grown up in a pretty conservative community and that had left serious marks. His parents were actually very understanding and had also known what was up for years, but they too remembered the widespread homophobia of that town.

He no longer bought the hysterical tirades on "Homosexuality is a crime against nature! God hates gays! Marriage should only be between a man and a woman, because that's what society is based off and it's all about the kids!" Nowadays, those just made him mad.

Yes, Yasha was an intelligent man, one who'd seen male dogs doing stuff, female chimps doing stuff, male bunnies doing stuff, and actually listened to science and psychology. He'd also figured out that if God were a loving deity who could forgive a felon, God could forgive a man in love with another man, if God even cared at all.

As for marriage: if children out of wedlock, divorce, annulments, cheating, cohabitation, domestic violence, and casual straight sex hadn't killed it, letting committed same-sex couples marry wouldn't be a deathblow. No one was going to force straight people to marry someone of their own gender, after all. And as for the kid thing, did that mean that straight couples who'd made the decision not to add to the overflow of humanity on this planet shouldn't be allowed to marry either? Gawd, these people needed to get their minds out of the Dark Ages. Not to mention, oh yeah, gay couples could and did have kids anyway.

But Yasha was also a cautious man. Just because _he _knew that such attitudes were antiquated didn't mean _they _did. And you could never really tell who was secretly a fundie in this. After all, a lot of fundies cohabited and had illegitimate children, then turned their hypocritical rage onto some innocent teenager who'd had the guts to tell society, "I'm a lesbian."

More than once, he'd thought someone was okay, and then they'd verbalized a casual comment about homosexuality that had made him _so _glad he was in the closet. Thing was, they could be genuinely kind people in everything but this, a friend sometimes, and losing a friendship over that was something he'd rather not do.

So Yasha decided that he'd have to be careful. If Kujaku could indeed be made to show interest in him, then they could just sweep it under the rug whenever they weren't alone! Surely he'd agree that the world was made up of homophobes, and while it was enjoyable to fantasize about going nuts on them, that would land them in jail.

.

By the next week, Yasha had found that his thoughts wandered to Kujaku with increasing frequency. And he could be doing things as varied as lying in bed listening to romantic violin music, talking to Bishamonten, changing his tire, or cooking himself his favorite meal.

_I wish Victor were here, _he'd think in bed.

_Victor did the funniest impression of you, _he'd think with Bishamonten.

_I'll bet Victor would have some crack to make this better, _he'd think while changing the tire.

_I wonder if Victor likes Parmesan chicken, _he'd think as he prepared such delicious food.

And it just kept growing. Soon it passed the mark of "I like him and I want him" to "I _love _him and I _need _him." By April, Yasha was hopelessly in love with Kujaku, and had started to have dreams about a little cottage with a white picket fence, matching wedding rings, and Kujaku making him breakfast wearing nothing but a little apron that said "Kiss the Cook."

Every time he did friendship-y things with Kujaku, he found himself fantasizing about confessing his feelings. When they'd gone out for coffee? He'd wanted to pluck Kujaku's overly sugary drink out of his hand and plant one on him. When they'd seen an exhibit on Egyptian mummies at the Science Museum? He'd wanted to back him against a display case and tell him, "I'm all wrapped up in you."

When they'd gone to a park to toss a Frisbee? He'd wanted to say, "When I'm here with you, my heart flies too." When they'd met up for a movie, "The Adventures of Dachshund Boy"? He'd wanted to whine, "This film is abysmal, and unless we change our seats and make out in the back of the theater, I want my money back." When they'd gone out to lunch at a Chinese place? He'd wanted to pretend his fortune said, "You will find love sitting right in front of you," instead of "You will be wealthy and successful."

Yes, it was feeding on itself, and Kujaku was completely oblivious. He was just happy that Yasha was having fun. They were getting to be firm friends, and he was tickled pink about that, because Yasha was great!

One day in late April, Yasha found himself preparing a different conference room for that daily briefing of the giants of Tenkai Corporation. The regular one was under construction, and hammering could faintly be heard. He could only hope poor Kuyou wouldn't be tempted to take a hammer to her boss's head, which would not only get her fired, it would land her in prison.

Yasha adored Kuyou. She was principled, kind, calm, and very nice, and he agreed with her that Taishakuten had to somehow be punished. They were great pals by now, and she even liked Kujaku.

All that aside, Yasha was not alone in his preparations. There were two women with him, also executive assistants: a dark-skinned beauty with green eyes and black hair, and a plump not-beauty with frizzy red hair, freckles, and brown eyes. Usually there would be another man with them, but Zouchouten had fired Ramone just yesterday, and there were rumors it was because he'd found a _better _assistant.

Nina Souma, Yasha often thought, deserved some sort of award. She'd once confided to him that she had fantasies about stabbing Taishakuten with a pair of steak knives until he was dead, and long after he'd stopped breathing too. But unless she'd told you that, you wouldn't be able to tell unless you knew her well. She was an extremely good assistant, and had apparently taken over from her dad after Taishakuten had driven him to a breakdown.

Yasha liked her a lot. Taishakuten's assistant often sat with Kujaku and him for lunch, and they did things outside of work together too. When it was lunchtime, the trio was often joined by the second woman.

Mara Wilkins was Koumokuten's assistant. She was bouncy and always ready with a joke, and her boss seemed to be annoyed by that. Never mind that _he _cracked jokes too, although his were invariably really mean and at someone's expense. Although yes, sometimes they were very witty and hilarious, Yasha thought they were in bad taste.

And then the door opened, and someone else walked in with a purposeful gait, on low heels and wearing a sky-blue pantsuit. Her skin was pale, her eyes matched her outfit, and her hair was white and in an odd style: a long, gathered ponytail over a long bob, with bangs parted in the center of her forehead.

"Hello," she said politely, but with no smile on her face. "This _is _the temporary conference room for the morning briefing, yes?"

"It is," Souma smiled. "And who might you be?"

"My name's Ellen Karura. I'm Mr. Zouchouten's new assistant. Let's see… you must be James," she nodded at Yasha, "you must be Mara," she nodded at Koumokuten's assistant, "and you must be Nina," she nodded at Souma.

"Yes, you're completely correct on all counts," Yasha smiled, as Souma mirrored his expression. And then, as they were so far alone, he went on, "What do you think of your boss so far?"

"I like him," Karura said cautiously. Uh-oh, a question like that usually meant that one's boss was bad in some way. Or maybe Yasha was just some sort of tattletale backstabber, who wanted her to say she hated Zouchouten so he could look better by comparison? She hoped it was the latter, because she could handle people like that.

But no. "I like Aaron too," he grinned. "And his last assistant was a total jerk. You seem like such an improvement, I can tell that already."

Before Karura could reply, the three Senior VPs swept into the room like a conquering trio of warlords, the ultimate god-emperor right behind them, as if this were some sort of ceremonial business procession. Everyone else immediately turned their attention to Taishakuten, and the meeting was on.

That lunch break, Yasha caught sight of Karura scanning the cafeteria for a place to sit. Before he could put up a hand and wave her over, Mara called, "Ellen! Come sit with us over here!" and waved both arms like a spectator at a football game.

"Yeah!" Kujaku agreed, imitating her. "I wanna meet you!"

A potential new friend was _never _turned down, he thought as she walked over. This one looked like a female Yasha in temperament, though. What was _with _the lack of a friendly expression? Would it kill that woman to crack a smile, even a little one? Or maybe she'd recently been bereaved or something, and was actually a nice, peppy person normally.

Introductions were made, small talk was talked, and Kujaku and Co. learned that Karura had a little sister, and _there _was a smile! A nice proud one, and it made her look even prettier. But then the topic moved onto Mara's idiot big brother, and it was gone again. Even when the conversation changed to Kujaku's funny story about an old girlfriend, she was all business again.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Mara asked her eagerly. She was one of those people who demanded intimate details whenever possible, but oh well, at least she didn't spread them around.

"Yes, I do," Karura replied, sounding happy even though she wasn't smiling. "His name is Mark, and we've been together for three years, ever since I was in my second year of college. He's a nurse, a chiropractic nurse to be precise, and I love him very much."

"Cute," Kujaku chirped. "We should all have love! Love is the thing I personally crave more than anything else in the world, and I think if society had more of it we'd all be so much better off. Like poor James… he has nobody, and he gets so grumpy all the time. Right James?" he grinned, slapping Yasha on the back.

Yasha mumbled, "Right. Stop it, Victor," and fought the urge to yell, "If you'd be mine, I'd have lots of love, and I could satisfy that craving of yours! Victor, come here, let's go find a deserted room and smooch."

"I recently met this great woman," Kujaku continued, making Yasha want to bellow, "NOOOO!" "At a coffee shop! We're going out for dinner this weekend."

Yasha wanted to find that restaurant and burn it down. Didn't the man _realize _that Yasha wanted him?! And that slut had better turn out to be a bitch, or he'd… he'd have to… um, have a polite yet firm discussion with her about how he loved Kujaku more. Being violent wasn't a nice thing to do to some innocent woman.

So when, next week, Kujaku suggested that they do something big together, Yasha was relieved to see that he hadn't added, "And my girlfriend's coming too." Good, maybe it hadn't actually worked out.

"Well," Yasha asked, "what did you have in mind for us hanging out this time?" He was rooting for some sort of "Dinner and a movie, then some necking in a backseat" suggestion, but he wasn't holding his breath.

"We should go to Wuddles World," Kujaku said seriously. "You know, the theme park down in Kusumapura, about twenty miles to the west? I haven't been there yet this year, and _you_, James, could use a little fun."

Wuddles World… it was like Disneyland on steroids. Its mascot, Wuddles, was a baby walrus so fat he might roll down the slightest inclined plane. The theme park actually had a walrus exhibit, and yes, every few years they got a new, _living _Wuddles to heap devotion upon.

If you thought Mickey Mouse was an object of slavish affection, you hadn't seen Wuddles World's personnel. They were _rabid_. Anything that could bear Wuddles's likeness did, and they pushed the merchandise like it was a hard drug and they needed to meet their quota for the day. From the roller coaster cars to the bathroom soap dispensers, that obese baby walrus was omnipresent.

Yasha had heard horror stories about Wuddles World. If you were an introverted person, it was like a giant torture complex. And if you didn't have the ability to say "no" to people who wanted to sell you something, you came home with tons of stuff you didn't need, and a bill so high you could have bought yourself a meal at Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette, the most expensive restaurant in the city of Zenmi. But he had the ability to say "no," so hopefully he'd be okay.

And maybe there was some sort of "Tunnel of Love" thing he could drag Kujaku on. And even if there wasn't, they could sit close together in the roller coaster cars! So he smiled and replied, "That sounds like a _lovely _idea. I'm free all day Sunday."

And that was that. They were going to Wuddles World, and Yasha made sure to withdraw extra cash, as theme park food was ridiculously pricy. But he sure as heck wasn't about to buy any merchandise, thanks.

They'd decided to carpool, Yasha picking Kujaku up because he lived farther away. When Kujaku bounded down his front walk that day wearing an open shirt, a tank top, swim trunks with purple geckos on them, good shoes for walking, and sunglasses as well, Yasha couldn't help but wonder how this would go.

Because Kujaku looked very exuberant. Very, _very _exuberant. He would probably be bouncing off the walls all the way there, or maybe singing along to the stereo or insisting that Yasha listen to "Weird Al" Yankovic instead of Journey. But nope, Yasha assured himself, they would hear "Don't Stop Believin' " instead of "Yoda."

But by the time they got there, Kujaku had managed to make Yasha turn his radio to a '70s station, and hollered "Boogie Wonderland" for the entirety of the song. Yasha had never been so glad to pay a ludicrous fee for parking in his life.

"Say goodbye to Earth Wind & Fire, Victor," he snapped, turning the radio off with a violent punch of a button. "We're here."

"Bah Earth Wind & Fahre!" Kujaku obediently farewelled, in a singsong, breathy, falsetto voice like the background vocals. Yasha gritted his teeth, but said nothing else.

A man in a Wuddles mascot costume waved and made walrus noises as they joined the line, and Kujaku waved back and imitated him. Yasha himself, who thought mascot costumes were a bit too close to fursuits and all the sick fuckery those entailed, averted his eyes and pretended to be deaf. This was a bad sign.

The line was long, another bad sign. He wondered how packed it was inside, but that line of thought was lost when Kujaku told him rather sheepishly, "Um, it's kinda pricy here. Fifty-five bucks for a ticket. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that earlier."

"No, I knew it would be. As for the tickets, I'll just buy them both, and you can pay me back later," Yasha said gallantly. "No sense taking any more time than we have to in the line."

"Hey, that'll work," Kujaku agreed. "Heck, I'll pay you back once we get into the park, so I don't forget. Thanks."

Finally they reached the booth, and Kujaku had been wrong: the price had been raised, and it was now sixty-seven dollars, plus tax. But Yasha handed his dough over, and wondered if he'd end up needing his credit card to buy food after all. This was a third bad sign, and he had to wonder what else he'd have to deal with today.

"Would you like to upgrade your Wuddles World experience with a membership to the Wuddles Fan Club?" the teller asked, with a disturbingly enthusiastic look in her eyes. "Members get the chance to _watch Wuddles eat _from a mere five feet away! Behind Plexiglas of course, we wouldn't want anyone upsetting him!"

Before Kujaku could say, "No thanks, but maybe we'll pop by and see him from the stands," Yasha snapped, "No, I do _not._" And then, making a grave mistake, he went on, "What's so great about that thing anyway?"

The teller stared at him, gaping like a fish out of water, and he had time to wonder if he'd just stuck his foot in his mouth before she nearly screamed, "Wuddles is our beloved mascot, and he's the most wonderful animal in the world! He is not a _thing_, he is the cutest baby walrus in history! You, sir, are obviously unfamiliar with his awesomeness."

Kujaku cringed, regretting not mentioning how careful you had to be around these people. Poor Yasha, he was now dealing with a fanatic, one who was about to try to convert him to her personality cult… for an animal without much personality.

"Sir," she said fervently, picking up a huge brochure, "this is background info on Wuddles that you should know. For the infinitesimal price of twenty dollars, you can –"

"Please, just give me my tickets," he groaned. "I don't want that brochure. I don't want to know your mascot's story, and I think either you're paid exceptionally well to be so loyal, or there must be something in the water here," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

Now she glared at him, almost like she was trying to kill him with her gaze, and said stiffly, "Here are your tickets, _mister_. Move along, you're holding up the line!"

Yasha snatched his tickets and moved along, Kujaku trotting after him with a sigh. It was only when they'd managed to get twenty feet away that Yasha realized they hadn't picked up a map. Well, he was _not _going back to get one! He'd just ask people which way to go to find the rides they wanted to go on.

"So, Victor," he queried, putting sunglasses up, "is there anything you _really _want to do here, or would recommend?"

"Oooh, I'm glad you asked!" Kujaku nearly squealed. "The Giant Squid Ride! See, it's like an animatronic theater-slash-ride thing, where you board a pirate ship and get attacked by a giant squid robot. I can't go to Wuddles World and not do that!"

Yasha, who was interested in historical piracy and thought "Pirates of the Caribbean" should be shot for its inaccuracies, didn't want to go on the Giant Squid Ride, where no doubt you would walk the plank to get off the ship (real pirates had just thrown people overboard) and get told a wild tale about buried treasure (real pirates hadn't usually buried it, they'd split it up and spent it). Still, Kujaku seemed excited about the thing, so he could handle it.

"Sure, that sounds like fun," he lied. "Now personally, I want to go on the roller coasters. Do you like them, or do they make you sick?"

"Don't worry, I love 'em," Kujaku assured him. "And they've got some great ones! Six Flags has nothing on Wuddles World, lemme tell ya. Just make sure we eat _after _we do the Wuddles Corkscrew Collider, because that thing is mostly loops, and they twist so close around other ones you think you're gonna hit the tracks. It's great."

They went on the Giant Squid Ride first, and yes, it was awful. The conductor not only mentioned buried, cursed pirate treasure, he called a small child "little dude" in a pirate accent. And Yasha got soaked when the giant squid's tentacles rose up out of the water and grabbed the mast, shaking the ship back and forth. But Kujaku had fun with it, and gleefully yelled things like, "ARRGGHHH!" and, "Avast ye!" and, "Shiver me timbers, James, look at those suckers!"

In fact, the conductor said, at the end of the ride, "By Blackbeard's bones, ye could be a pirate t'rival me own self!"

The roller coasters were better, and the Wuddles Corkscrew Collider was excellent. But they had trouble finding the last one they wanted to go on, the Wuddles Arctic Screamer. The signs directed them to the Wuddles Blubber Bouncy Castle, and when they looked around, they couldn't see anything that looked like a roller coaster.

"They must have gotten rid of it," Kujaku muttered, his hands on his hips. "Let's ask some worker if they know what happened to the Screamer."

Yasha was reluctant to ask any of Wuddles World's personnel for help, because the more he saw of them, the more convinced he was that they were all mental asylum escapees. But when Kujaku pointed out a vending cart and its proprietor, Yasha took a deep breath and strode over. The vendor was leaning back in his chair, his hands folded, and looking rather sleepy. Good, this one probably wouldn't be so fanatical. Yasha hoped so, anyway.

"Hi," he said cautiously, coming up to the cart. "We're looking for the –"

"Would you like to buy some Wuddles merchandise?!" the guy screamed, shoving a tray of Wuddles watches into Yasha's face. "We have tote bags, t-shirts, plushies, keychains, jewelry, watches, temporary tattoos, purses, coffee mugs, and hats! All for the love of WUDDLES!"

Yasha was honestly frightened, but Kujaku beamed, "Why _sure _I would! I'll take… lessee, I'll take two tote bags and a coffee mug," he decided, pulling his wallet out as Yasha made himself _not _hide behind him.

"Everyone should have something with Wuddles on it," the vendor said seriously, unhooking two tote bags. "My daughter has a Wuddles backpack, which is available in the gift shop for the low, low price of one hundred and forty-nine-ninety-nine. Plus tax," he muttered, hastily and under his breath.

"We were, um, looking for the Wuddles Arctic Screamer," Yasha said faintly. "Do you know where it is? The signs said it was right here, and I don't see it."

"Oh, we got rid of that one. Some dork got killed when one of the tow-cables snapped a year ago, and we've all been so busy I guess they forgot to change the signs. They did change the map, though," the vendor stressed, giving Yasha a disapproving look. "If you'd just use it, you'd have known that."

Yasha glared and held his tongue, despite wanting to bitch about the nutty teller. It would do no good, and would actually be harmful, because this one would just lay into him about being blasphemous to their god too. He made the vow that when he got home, he would take his ticket stub with the Wuddles graphic and burn it, just to prove a point.

"So what do you want to do now?" he asked Kujaku as they walked away, Kujaku's net worth having dropped by a hundred and seventy-six dollars. "Do you want to see the walrus exhibit?"

He prayed Kujaku didn't. He liked watching animals and loved zoos, but this one would be surrounded by a cadre of loyal dingbats, which would take away from the fun. If it had been just a regular walrus exhibit with a young one, Yasha would have been more than happy to go see it, but it wasn't. No, it wasn't in the least.

"Well, right now," Kujaku replied seriously, "I want to get something to eat. I see a food station over there! See? The one with the cotton candy and the lollipops?"

Yes indeed, Yasha did see. The whole thing was shaped like Wuddles' head, and the window was the mouth. Two stubs of fiberglass tusks were above the window, and as he watched, a worker hugged the side of it in spontaneous stupidity.

"Here, hold my gear," Kujaku said as he passed the tote bag containing the other tote bag and coffee mug to Yasha. "I'll go get us some food. What would you like? Personally, I can't get enough of cotton candy."

"I want a hotdog, not pure sugar," Yasha sighed in reply. "I'll wait until we hit a food stand with actual food, thanks. Victor, really, you should do that as well, it's healthier and you won't have to deal with a crash."

"Oh, I'll be getting a hotdog too," Kujaku told him seriously. "Maybe two. This is just to hold me over! I'm _starving_, you have no idea."

As Kujaku walked off with a whistle and pulled his wallet out again, Yasha stood there, holding the tote bag full of merchandise he hated. Oh, he hoped nobody thought _he'd _bought this junk, but they probably did. He resisted the urge to hurl it down and stomp on it, but that would be mean to Kujaku, and he didn't want to be mean to Kujaku.

For a few minutes he just stayed in that position and tried not to look at Wuddles, but his picture was everywhere, in multiple forms. There was the standard graphic for the logo, but there were also realistic Wuddles, caricature Wuddles, and anime Wuddles. Anime Wuddles's eyes were so big, there must not have been much room left in his skull for a brain, which somehow didn't surprise Yasha.

And suddenly, from the left, a horrible sound: "Oh my GOD! Carrie, look at _that _guy! I'm gonna go hug him!"

Yasha had time to think that whichever poor target the teenybopper girls had picked should run, before two fourteen-year-olds wearing slut clothes and more makeup than clowns ran over and made unwanted physical contact. They were also in those chunky sandals for a day of walking, which just demonstrated how the teenage brain isn't fully mature yet, no matter what they insist.

One put a hand on his arm. The other put a hand on his shoulder, and he snapped, "Young ladies, it's not at _all _polite to –"

"He's _sooo _hot!" the first girl giggled, glomping him before he could get away. "I want to take him home with me!"

Yasha's immediate instinct was to utilize a self-defense move, twist out of her grasp and send her flying into a wall, but that would be using his taekwondo powers for evil. So he had to find a way to get her off of him without –

"Aw, _I _wanna take him home instead, Nicole!" the second girl whined, glomping him from the other side. "How come you get all the hot ones?!"

Now Yasha's instinct was to scream for help, before they started tugging him in different directions and dislocated his shoulder or something. What was _wrong _with the youth of today, specifically the females? If he'd done this to a random woman, she would have been completely justified in screaming about sexual harassment and unwanted physical contact, so why did they do this to him?

And then, like that of an angel, Kujaku's voice came from the right. "Hey! What the heck are you girls _doing _to that poor man?!"

Yasha looked over, never so glad to see another person in his life. Kujaku was laden with three things of Wuddles Fluffy Sea Foam cotton candy, one of those giant, plate-sized lollipops shaped like the walrus, and a dish of "Wuddles-Flavored" ice cream Dots, all of which looked dangerously close to falling out of his grip. As the desperate object of underage affection watched, he handed it all off to a watching pair of _mature _young women, with a quick, "Hold these please."

"I'm just hugging this super-hot guy, what's it to _you?!_" Carrie whined, yanking Yasha to her side. "Unless you're gay and he's your boyfriend, you have no claim on –"

"That would be even _hotter!_" Nicole squealed, tugging Yasha over to her. "There's nothing sexier than two hot guys getting it on!"

As they said this, Kujaku was stomping over with a frown on his face, and Yasha couldn't help but hope that he would proclaim, "I _am _in love with James! Seeing him attacked by fangirls has made me realize how much I want him, so I'm going to throw you both into the water for the log ride, and take him home for some heartfelt talks and heartfelt sex."

"No, he's not my boyfriend," Kujaku said firmly, dashing Yasha's hopes. "But he _is _my friend, and as such I'm going to protect him. So let him go before I pull you off, and call security. Security here can be nasty." Only if you lobbed a piece of trash at Wuddles, but they didn't have to know that.

The Yasha fans let him go with a pout, and Carrie whined, "Lighten up! It's not like I kicked him or anything! I was just being friendly."

"No, you were being a stalker," Yasha and Kujaku snapped, in perfect unison. As Kujaku sent him a grin, Yasha continued, "That was completely inappropriate! Have you never heard of personal space? Touching someone like that without their permission is frowned upon in polite society, so please, grow up."

They pouted but backed away, and Kujaku collected his sugar from the smirking pair of mature young women, one of which complimented, "Nice."

"Yes, it was nice, wasn't it," he agreed, then thanked them for their help. After which he tried to make Yasha take a cotton candy, which did not work. But okay, more spun sugar and air for Kujaku then!

Finally Yasha located a food stand that sold hotdogs, burgers, and such, in the nick of time too. Kujaku had gobbled down the Dots and a thing of cotton candy, and had been starting in on the lollipop as well. If he didn't get some regular food, surely he would feel sick, Yasha muttered inside his head.

There was no line for that food stand, because apparently everybody else was like Kujaku and wanted to keep their dentists in business. Yasha bought himself a Wuddles Wiener with Wuddles Frost Sauerkraut, Wuddles Yum-Yum Fries, and a Wuddles Chiller Diet Coke. He did _not _purchase the souvenir cup, which annoyed the worker who rang him up.

He had had quite enough of the walrus-worshiping zealots, and wanted to go _home_. NOW! He felt like throwing a tantrum, just like a toddler who'd hit his limit and couldn't comprehend that instant gratification was impossible in this situation. Yes, and then he'd kick a Wuddles World worker in the shin, and insist that Kujaku carry him home and give him a kissy-wissy to calm him down.

But he sat down and ate his food, and then endured the Wuddles Flier Ferris Wheel, in which Kujaku rocked the carriage and said, "Hey, I can see the Corkscrew from here! And the river! And the open-pit mine! You know, if I could fly, I could just glide all the way there from here, don't you think, James?"

Finally, _finally _Kujaku sighed, "I'm pooped. Can we go home?"

"Yes we _can_," Yasha fervently replied.

On the way back to the car, which seemed to take much longer than it had to get here, Kujaku said, "James, I could tell you weren't having much fun with all the crowds and the wacky personnel. But it was so _nice _of you not to bring it up and let me do what I wanted to do! Thanks, so much. I had a great time."

His brilliant smile, directed at his friend, made it incredibly easy for Yasha to reply, "Then I'm happy."

.

The very next Saturday, Yasha found himself at a dinner with Bishamonten and his wife, Kisshouten, hoping that she wouldn't try to set him up with some random woman again.

Kisshouten was a very kind person, and he honestly liked her a lot. He also honestly wondered why she'd chosen to marry a man who liked ruining people's lives in the business sphere, and was pretty arrogant in his daily interactions with lots of people. Yasha _did _like Bishamonten too, but that didn't mean he couldn't acknowledge the man's bastardliness, if that were even a real word.

Oh well. It was probably an "opposites attract" thing. And he was aware that Kisshouten wanted Taishakuten marooned on a desert island, like much of the rest of the world.

Yasha was impressed by her artistic skills. All the art in Bishamonten's office was by his wife, and it was very good. Usually office art was boring, but these were downright beautiful. Yasha's favorite was the picture of a fabulous castle, which she'd called "Palace of the God-King," but he also liked "The Captive Princess" and "Ninja in the Night," the last of which Souma had modeled for.

"James," Kisshouten said warmly as they all had dessert, "Victor tells me you and he went to the theme park last weekend."

Kujaku and Kisshouten were buddies too. In fact, Kujaku and Kisshouten liked to do doodle projects together. She'd scribble something out, he'd do something in the same theme… it was like pic-chat minus the computers.

"Yes, we went to Wuddles World," Yasha sighed, making Bishamonten smirk. "It was abysmal, but he had fun."

"That's so nice of you to do things like that with him," she smiled. "But listen, James, I have someone who wants to meet you. One of my models, for the painting 'Beautiful Lady with Butterflies.' I mentioned you a couple of times, and she'd really like to be introduced, maybe go out to dinner."

"I, well, um… I try to avoid blind dates," he said cautiously. "You can end up with some very odd people. What's she like?"

"Tracy is a very lovely young lady," Kisshouten replied, clueless to the fact that lovely young ladies did nothing for Yasha. "Tracy Aizenmiyou, she's your age and she's very lonely. She tells me she needs a date with a man who's strong and polite, because her last boyfriend was, to use her term, a 'scummy, wimpy, pushy asshole,' if you'll pardon my profanity."

Yasha wondered how he could get out of this one. Hurting Kisshouten's feelings would make him feel like a cur, and Bishamonten might decided to punish him if that happened. So he said in a martyred tone, "Well, perhaps so. As long as she doesn't expect anything, well, _serious_."

"James, settling down is a _good _thing," Bishamonten told him, firm and sounding a bit annoyed. "Sowing one's wild oats –"

"That's not what I meant, Mr. Bishamonten," Yasha hastily replied. "I was just trying to say that I don't get serious on a first date, that's all. I like to get to _know _someone first, I think that's best."

"Oh. Well, yes. Forget I said anything."

And so, a date was arranged with Aizenmiyou. Yasha had no intention whatsoever of there being a repeat date, but surely he could handle a single dinner. What was the worst that could happen? If she tried to grope him, he'd be justified in complaining to Kisshouten, who would take Aizenmiyou to task.

He'd managed to get out of picking her up, thankfully. This way, if it went bad, he wouldn't have to drive her home anyway and spend more time with her.

He walked into Rachel's, which was a nice but not too fancy restaurant, and immediately heard an excited call of "You must be James! You look just like I imagined you, with that hair and the handsome face. I'm Tracy!"

He appraised the woman who was coming towards him. She was, indeed, a beautiful lady, but her face was childlike, honestly. She had huge purple eyes, and a rosebud mouth that was a glossy red, and long, shiny black hair piled on top of her head and falling in waves down her back. She had probably been the most beautiful little kid ever, he had to imagine.

"Nice to meet you," he said politely, as she turned her cheek towards him and waited for a peck. Uh-oh.

By the time they'd ordered their meals, he knew one thing: this woman scared him. She was desperate for a companion, and kept saying things like, "You seem to be a man who understands that no one person can go it alone. We should be together, I can feel it in my bones."

As Aizenmiyou babbled on about how she needed a good man, one who would end her loneliness and "sate my hunger for a modern-day warrior of love," Yasha ate his gnocchi mechanically and let his thoughts wander to Kujaku. Yes, now _there _was someone he wouldn't mind "passionately devouring in a frenzy of physicality," not in the least.

_What's he doing right now? _he was unable to keep from wondering. _Is he writing a treatise on telephone poles, or playing some silly video game, or – or maybe he's fantasizing about me?_

But nope, Yasha was dead wrong on all of those, because Kujaku was at that moment humming a happy little tune as his girlfriend Mindy snuggled his bare, sweaty torso, having just engaged in adult activities that Yasha might have cried at after witnessing. What a terrible sense of irony the universe had sometimes.

"Victor," she simpered, "I'm so glad we met at the coffeeshop!"

"Me too, Mindy," he beamed, running a hand through glossy hair some women would kill for. "Wasn't that fun? To think, you almost walked off with my coffee, and if I hadn't followed you and grabbed it we'd be… I dunno, doing crossword puzzles and feeding our fish right now."

Mindy giggled and agreed, snuggling closer as he went on, "Funny how life works, isn't it? You go into a coffeeshop for an Oreo mocha frappuccino with extra, extra whipped cream, and you leave with the number of somebody you end up liking an awful lot. Mindy, maybe we were kinda meant to be, huh?"

"Oh, I'm not sure if I want to get that serious yet," she said slowly. "I mean, Victor, this is just the first time we've slept together, our relationship needs time to _deepen_."

"It _was _your idea for me to stay the night," he pointed out. "I wanted to wait, for much longer."

"Well c'mon, we've been dating for a while! I wanted to get with you that day in the coffee shop," she told him bluntly. As he started to frown slightly, she rushed on with, "But maybe it was love at first sight! Maybe we _are _meant to be! Don't pout, I didn't mean to make you mad."

"Okay, my apologies. Hey Mindy, we should totally go out to some super-fancy restaurant!" he suggested. "We had so much fun at Rachel's the other night."

Forty-five minutes later at that selfsame restaurant, Yasha felt like he wanted to bolt from the premises. And invest in body armor, and a really good security system. Aizenmiyou was worse than the teenagers at Wuddles World! She kept rubbing her foot up his shin, and no matter how many times he told her to stop, she'd always do it again. Plus she was convinced that he was playing hard to get, and was not in fact completely uninterested and annoyed.

She wouldn't take any hints, and she wouldn't even take him bluntly telling her, "I'm sorry, but I don't like you. Let me just sign this bill and we can call it a night."

"Can I have your number so I can call you and convince you how perfect for each other we are?" she asked innocently. "I'll give you mine!"

"I don't want your number," Yasha growled, signing the receipt and stowing his credit card. "Not to be rude, but I've made it very clear that you and I are _not _perfect for each other. I've been polite, but you haven't done the same for me, and I'm barely holding onto my temper."

With that, he stood up and stalked away, leaving her to call after him, "We could have had something _wonderful_, James!"

.

Two weeks later, Yasha watched with a kind of resigned interest as Kujaku added more paperclips to a sculpture of a frog. So far it was just the bare bones, but Kujaku had told him, "I think I'll spray-paint this one, James! It's for a friend of mine, he adores frogs. His birthday's next month, so if I work _really _hard on it, I think I'll get it done."

But oh no! He'd run out of paperclips, as he discovered with something approaching horror. He managed to beg a half-full box from Zouchouten's secretary Sandra, but had to put some aside to be used in actual office work.

Yasha watched Kujaku pout, and had a brilliant idea. _He _would provide the paperclips, and then Kujaku would look into his eyes and suddenly realize that this was no mere friendly gift. Then they'd smooch behind a corner so nobody could see, and live happily ever after. So Yasha asked Bishamonten if he could have a mere hour off of work, for a family emergency. It was only the second major lie he'd ever told his boss; the first was lying by omission and making him think he was straight.

"My cousin's having her baby, and her husband's out of town," he told Bishamonten. "And she needs to get to the hospital, pronto. I won't stay until the baby's born, but just until she gets into the maternity ward. I promise to work two extra hours in payment the next day, but this is important, sir!"

It was a flimsy story, because why couldn't his cousin just call an ambulance? But Bishamonten was on the phone and distracted, and bought it with a clipped, "Fine. We have nothing important going on for today. But I expect you back as soon as possible!"

"Of course, sir," Yasha assured him over his shoulder, heading for the door. "I'll be as quick as I can."

He dashed to his car, a smug and cunning grin on his face. He was so devious, he congratulated himself. He'd just make up a story about the kid by tomorrow, and people would accept it and lose interest soon, he knew how these things worked. Who _didn't _hate talk of family members and baby pictures?

So he drove to the local Staples – er, the closest Staples to the skyscraper, because there were no less than four in the Zenmi city limits. Yes, it was a business town, and Staples brought in a lot of money. Yasha shopped here often, and took advantage of the paper sales to buy some for his home too.

It wasn't very busy right now, as it was after the lunch hour but before people got off work. Of course there were a few customers, mostly harried office drones who'd come to get emergency supplies of toner and whatnot. There was nothing like a panicking office drone, Yasha mused as one broke into a scream that his particular product was out of stock.

He found the paperclips easily, and boy, was there a good selection! It was kind of silly, really. But he found two boxes that really caught his eye, and put them side by side to compare.

He stared at the boxes, wondering if this was how straight men felt when they picked out engagement rings for their fiancées. Was bigger better? Or was it quality that counted more? Should he go with the slightly smaller box of silver clips in four sizes, or the giant box of multicolored clips in one size? This was a dilemma, and while he _was _aware that this whole thing was exceedingly silly, he was concentrating hard, weighing his options. Should he buy them _both?_

Yes! Yes, two boxes of exotic office art supplies would surely make Kujaku notice him! Of course it would be more straightforward to simply ask the guy out, but Yasha was shy in this situation. Despite being a force to be reckoned with at the office and on the taekwondo mat, personal romantic interactions were almost scary to him.

So he nodded firmly, picked up the two gifts, and walked purposefully towards the registers. There was no line, joy of joys, something that always made him feel like he'd won something.

"Just these, sir?" the saleswoman asked, smiling. "My, that's a lot of paperclips!"

"Indeed," Yasha assented, then added rather proudly, "They're for someone special."

Her smile now looked a tad forced, because what kind of weirdo was this? "How… very lovely. Do you have a Staples card, sir?" she asked warily, afraid that he might launch into some sort of fetishistic monologue.

"Yes," he replied, quickly handing it over. "Yes, I shop here all the time."

When he got home, he immediately headed to his gift-wrapping supplies. Now, he wasn't an expert at it, but he'd improved since the days he'd used nearly a full roll of tape and had to stick extra wrapping paper on, because he hadn't thought to check how much he would need when he cut it. And nowadays he used store-bought bows, instead of trying to make nice ones and ending up with a Gordian knot.

He perused his choices of wrapping paper, and decided to go with the starry sky one. Santas or birthday cakes wouldn't work, and neither would the old roll of wedding bells, which he'd had to buy for his cousin Tristan's wedding. Nope, starry skies were good, and he'd forgo a bow because he didn't want to look _too _desperate.

So, with two wrapped boxes, he went back to his car, determined that this would be the day that Kujaku noticed him in a _romantic _way. Or, at least, _hoping _that would be the case, because it was still possible that Kujaku was completely heterosexual.

He bought himself lunch, ate it leisurely to up the time, and returned to the office with ten minutes to spare. He felt slightly guilty, but sacrifices had to be made, right? And he'd be making up for it, plus he'd made sure to clock out.

He clocked in and walked over to Kujaku, bearing his gifts. But Kujaku was on the phone, and using the Bronx accent. Honestly, he sounded a tiny bit like Koumokuten, who called women he didn't like "broads" and such. Still, there was no profanity, so that at least was different, Yasha thought with a sigh.

When Kujaku hung up with a pleasant "Buh-bye nows," Yasha told him, "Victor, I have a little gift for you. Two, actually."

He brought the boxes out from behind his back and handed them to the other man, who immediately sang, "Ooh, presents! Presents! What didja get me?"

As he spoke, Kujaku was ripping the wrapping paper off the smaller box, and he lit up when he saw what it was. Paperclips! Now he could finish the frog. And there were _two _boxes, so that clinched it: he could _definitely _finish the frog, and maybe even start a new sculpture too.

"Aw, James, thanks!" he crooned, and stood up for a manhug. "You're such a sweet guy, for real."

Yasha hugged him back, elated that this was working. When they drew apart, he looked into Kujaku's eyes, waited for a gasp of realization and a kiss… and got a cheerful, "James ol' pal, you are a _lifesaver_. In thanks, I'll make my next sculpture something for you! What would you like?"

Yasha was almost distraught for a split-second, before he recovered and answered, "Oh, I don't know, perhaps a man doing a back-kick, or something."

And that was that. At lunch, he ate his stroganoff a bit more violently than was needed, as Kujaku chattered to Souma. The little group's dynamics had changed, and it was all the more obvious now that Kujaku was the fun one. Koumokuten had fired Mara because she hadn't been fast enough on a couple tasks, and gotten a new assistant who was emotionless and never cracked any jokes. They never ate lunch with him, he was boring anyway. And poor Karura was even grumpier than usual, because she'd broken up with Mark because he'd cheated on her, as she'd growled to Yasha and Kujaku when they'd asked why.

"It hurts, and I'm not going to talk about it," she'd snapped that day. "I dumped that lying snake, but being with someone for three years and thinking it's all fine leaves hefty traces of love, no matter how angry I am at him. I'm not going to take him back, but it's still hard."

Yasha had muttered commiserations and hopes that she'd feel better soon, but Kujaku had soon found a silver lining. For you see, within weeks, one Aaron Zouchouten kept eyeing his assistant and smiling whenever he interacted with her. Kujaku found this both funny and kinda cute: the big scary General of R & D and the elegant beautiful assistant who only reached up to his upper pecs.

"It's like yin and yang," he grinned to Yasha one day. "He's big, she's – well, not _little_, but a lot shorter than him. He's got the build Rambo wants for Christmas, she's all sleek and slender. He's got really weird hair, she's got… y'know, actually, her hair's kinda weird too, with that shorter part underneath the ponytail thingy."

"Are you serious?" Yasha asked, flabbergasted. "Here's another one: he's old, she's young! I find that slightly disturbing, Victor."

"Age is just a number," Kujaku insisted, and added another paperclip to his sculpture. "And it's not like he's seventy and she's eighteen! That right there is disturbing yeah, but there's… I think less than thirty years between 'em. He's forty-eight. She must be around your age, and you're twenty-five."

"If he's old enough to be her dad, I find it disturbing," Yasha snapped. "Yes he's nice and I like him, but he needs to find someone his own age."

"Don't be so judgmental, Judgy McJudgington," Kujaku sniffed in reply. "Live and let live! He's not hitting on _you_, after all."

"If he did," Yasha muttered as he turned away to go make a copy, "I'd have to turn him down in no uncertain terms." _Because I like men with purple eyes and alluring wavy hair, ones who completely ignore my romantic gestures. Figures._

.

On Tuesday evening the next week, Kujaku was gamboling up Mindy's front walk, grinning a proud grin and twirling the key she'd given him. It was another date night, and while he was early, he had good reason to be.

He was so romantic, he congratulated himself. Wouldn't she be surprised when she answered the door and he burst into the song he'd written? "Mindy Is My Baby" had been written at work, and he'd memorized it and practiced it to the mirror to get the dance moves right. Now, he'd have to make sure he stepped back off the steps for those, but she'd love it! And then –

"Ohh! YES! Oh!" he heard from above him as he neared the steps.

His mouth dropped open in shock. That was his girlfriend's voice! He snapped his head up to look at her bedroom window, and while the shade was drawn it was open. Was she…? He really hoped she was alone, because those sure sounded like sex noises to him.

He pondered what to do, as the noises reached a peak and suddenly halted. Well, gee, maybe he should just call her? But what did he say? "Hey Mindy, were you just getting yourself off a minute ago? You should really remember to close your window when you do things like that," might sound incredibly creepy.

On the flip side, maybe she'd be turned on that he'd heard that. Maybe she'd insist, "Victor, come here! It's not the same doing it by myself!"

Or maybe she was… with somebody?

He decided to check it out. After all, she'd told him to come over. Yeah he was early, but maybe – hey, maybe she'd done it on purpose! And hadn't forgotten the window after all. If so, two things. One: kinky. And Two: he had all sorts of sexy visions running through his head now. So he unlocked the door and strolled upstairs, a pervy grin on his face. He could sing the song some other time.

"Mindy!" he said happily, throwing her bedroom door open. "That was –"

She was _not _alone, not at all. Instead, she was in the arms of some other guy! Both were buck-naked, the sheets only covering their ankles and feet, and gleaming with sweat. Naked Guy looked Latino, and had that cleft chin that so many women thought was the sexiest thing in the universe. And artfully oiled hair, and a tattoo of a cross on his right bicep.

Kujaku gaped at Mindy, who flushed bright pink and managed a weak, "It's not what it looks like."

He raised a brow as Naked Guy pulled the covers over his head, like that would make him invisible. Idiot, because Kujaku had already seen more of him than he ever wanted to again. He was, in a word, hairy. Clearly he didn't believe in waxing important body parts, for example his back, ew.

"Gee, Mindy, how silly of me. Of course it's not, he's just a federal body inspector performing his duties," Kujaku said sarcastically, very put out.

"Um…"

She expected perhaps a wail of "How could yoouuu?!" or a macho challenge of "Hey dude, I'll fight you for her," but instead she got, "Okay. Bye then. Have fun with Mr. FBI." And with that, Kujaku spun around and closed the door.

"Victor, wait!" he could hear through it. She sounded pretty desperate as she went on, "I'll dump Rafael and make it up to you by –"

" 'Ey! Joo told me joo were 'lookeeng for a man to geeve you what 'e cannot!' I am eensulted! And 'ere I t'ought we were een love, joo lyeeng liar! I must go, before joo lacerate my 'eart anymore!"

Kujaku left them arguing and stomped down the stairs and back out the door, tossing the key at a potted plant before he passed through it. He wouldn't need it anymore. Nope, this just went to show: beware of people who pressure you to hop into bed before you think you should. Well, next time, unless he suggested it, no sex for anyone!

He found himself still incredibly angry by the time he got back home. He'd honestly _liked _Mindy, an awful lot. He'd been hoping he might come to love her, and maybe he had been starting to.

But not anymore. He spent the rest of his evening seething, a lot of it about how she'd planned to go out with him after doing that. And when he finally went to bed, after composing a song called "Mindy Is a Hooker-Bitch," he was unable to get to sleep. So some sort of tension-releasing activity was needed, something enjoyable that didn't take much brainpower to do.

He had a good idea on that, but who was he to think about? Not Mindy, that was for sure. No more affectionate thoughts about the hooker-bitch for him! Well, who was somebody attractive and kind, someone he thought was sexy and would never betray him like that? Karura?

Nah. She was very pretty and he did like her, but that spark wasn't there. He honestly didn't find her sexy, just beautiful. Not to mention Zouchouten had just popped up in his head, grabbed Karura and slung her over his shoulder, and bellowed, "MINE! Not yours, _mine!_"

And then, someone else popped up in his head too and shoved Zouchouten aside, bare-chested and striking a pose with his hair blowing in the wind, because long hair was sexier if it blew in the wind. Yes, James Yasha, wearing only a pair of little leather shorts and a tie, winked and purred, "Why, Victor… why don't you think about _me?_"

Hmm… Yasha in bed. It wasn't like Kujaku hadn't thought about and occasionally fooled around with men before, honestly. He recalled Chase from college with exceedingly fond and romantic memories, for example, and he'd always thought Yasha was a very handsome guy. And nice in his guarded way, and he had such beautiful midnight-blue eyes. And oh boy, that man's body was undoubtedly glorious, judging from what Kujaku had seen when he wore t-shirts and shorts.

So Kujaku fantasized about Yasha and all that that entailed, and decided, as he was drifting off to sleep, that he might have to explore that attraction a bit more.

.

The next morning, he was grumpy. But he did take some time to really study Yasha, because a new target of affection made it easier to drive out the memories of an old target of affection you no longer wanted. And Yasha was, in a word, intriguing.

Still, Kujaku found himself a bit subdued, and when Yasha finally asked, "Are you all right?" he sighed and responded with, "I caught my girlfriend in bed with another guy. I broke it off, but it's still kinda painful. I mean, here I wrote her a song, and she's picking up a Latin lover."

For a moment, Yasha wanted to do a cheerleader impression: jumping up and down with his fists pumping in the air, a manic grin on his face, and chanting, "Victor, Victor, you know what? I'll be better than that slut!" But instead, he fought down his smile and told him, "I'm sorry you're hurt. That must have been a real blow."

"It was," Kujaku agreed, just as Bishamonten came out of his office. "That's something nobody ever really expects to see, and I thought things were going really well too."

"And what, exactly, are you two discussing?" Bishamonten asked, sounding a trifle caustic. "James, I expect slacking off from Victor, but not from you. You'd better not be turning into him."

"I'm not," Yasha said quickly, just as Kujaku replied, "I broke up with my girlfriend because I found her sleeping with someone else."

Bishamonten nodded and murmured, "Oh. Well, you have my sympathy, then. Breaking up with someone is never fun, and being betrayed is even less so. The thing to do is focus on things other than that, and put your energy into parts of your life that you can control," he lectured benevolently, smiling an encouraging little smile.

"It really sucks," Kujaku said forlornly, "when you've got something great going with a woman you like an awful lot, and she throws it all away with no warning whatsoever."

"Yes it _does_," Bishamonten agreed in a sad growl. "But Victor, I don't think you were about to propose to her, so I'm sure _you'll _get over it."

Yes, poor Bishamonten had dated, made love to, danced with, sang to, and picked out curtains with one Shashi Lipschnitzski, who'd flown the coop with a phone message. He'd been looking at engagement rings the day before, in a terrible twist of irony. That had been fourteen years ago, and it was still a sore spot. He often dreamed of her and wondered where in the world she was now, and what she was doing.

Yasha wondered about Bishamonten's statement. Well, the man was happily married now, so surely it was no longer a real issue. Yeah it still probably hurt, but really, what kind of straight man wouldn't want to be married to Kisshouten? If he wasn't gay, Yasha might have been a bit jealous, actually, because she was very kind and intelligent in addition to being beautiful.

Kujaku muttered, "Oh, I _will _get over the hooker-bitch. It's still painful, though. But better for it to end sooner than later, if she was doing things like that. …Hey Reginald, you look sad. What's up?"

Bishamonten blinked, dispelling memories of Shashi ballroom dancing with him, wearing a scandalous red dress and whispering romantic and sexy sentiments into his ear. Whoops, those memories did occasionally make themselves known. Well, he'd never see her again, he thought to himself, so it didn't matter, surely.

He lied, "I was merely contemplating the fact that if my wife did that to me, I'd break down into a sobbing heap on the floor, and murder the other man. Now back to work," he barked, and Kujaku and Yasha obeyed with alacrity.

By August, Kujaku had indeed gotten over Mindy, which made Yasha very thankful. As he came back from an errand, he encouraged himself to make some sort of move on the guy. But what? he thought as he approached the door again. An offer to take him to that terrible Wuddles World once more?

He paused outside the door, suddenly perturbed. Someone was belting a song, one of those pop things from an artist he was _sure _would disappear in a month or so: "Oooh… let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame – Do ya want love or ya want fame –"

Bishamonten never sang in the office, and if he did it would probably be something along the lines of "I'm an executive with tons of power la-la-la, bow before me." So what man would sing Lady Gaga? With a clear tenor and a smile in his voice, obviously having fun with it?

"I'm on a mission – And it involves some heavy touchin' yeah –"

It was probably that awful Vahyu, Yasha decided. He was no doubt dancing around making gratuitous hip movements, fluttering his eyelashes at –

Wait a minute, why would Vahyu be in Bishamonten's office? He tended to stay on the Marketing floor, for which Yasha was incredibly, incredibly thankful. But who was singing, then? Yasha pondered this for a while as the chorus was repeated, then hesitantly pushed the door open. While he was relieved to see that it wasn't Vahyu…

"I can see you starin' there from across the block," Kujaku sang gleefully, pirouetting with his loose tie in his hand, "With a smile on your mouth, and your hand on your –"

Yasha cleared his throat desperately, because he'd figured out where that rhyme was going.

"Oh hi James," Kujaku smiled, smoothing a lock of hair out of his face. "I was just singing. What a fun song, huh? I just can't get it out of my head! That Lady Gaga will go far, I just know it," he proclaimed, a prophet for the music scene.

"Uh… sure. You have a, er, lovely voice," Yasha said faintly, staring at Kujaku's open shirt. Well, technically, he was staring at the pecs and abs exposed by the open shirt, but who was keeping track? Not him, nosirree.

"Um, if you don't mind my asking," he went on, " why is your shirt unbuttoned?"

"Oh, I got hot," Kujaku said airily, like prancing around in a business office half-shirtless was no big deal and everyone did it. "You should've seen me leap from the desk to the table, it was awesome. I felt like a singing ninja!"

"I don't think Reginald will appreciate you jumping around on the furniture," Yasha muttered, crossing his arms in disapproval. "You might have broken something! And if he comes in and sees you wearing that, he'll probably yell. You should button that shirt back up and be mature."

He wanted to add, "But you know, _I _don't mind the open shirt, not one bit. Can I nibble on your abs and stroke my hands over your pecs?" But of course he didn't, because that would be Vahyu-inappropriate.

Kujaku, who had noticed the appreciative looks at his manly charms, was a bit taken aback that Yasha was insisting that he hide such things. Shoot. And here he'd displayed them mostly in the hope that Yasha would ogle them! Yeah he'd gotten hot too, but he couldn't just _say_, "I'm half-topless for you, buddy! I have no idea if you're gay or not, but this is _your _Victor Kujaku fanservice."

But on the plus side, the sexy assistant had certainly noticed such sculpted torso muscles. That was good! Kujaku honestly hated working out, so it was nice to see that all that boring hefting of weights and pushups had paid off. And this was a sign that Yasha _wasn't _completely straight! Yaaayyy!

"Well, I guess, if you insist," he sighed, starting to button his shirt back up. "Even though Reginald's at Taishakuten's, for that 'Look what I found out!' meeting. We should get him a trench coat and a fedora, 'cause he's the corporate spymaster," he smirked.

Yes indeed, he was. Bishamonten took his duties of securing Taishakuten's "reign" seriously, and had found out everything from a bomb plot to the engineer Harold Kumaraten's use of company funds for his hand sanitizer obsession. His little army of spies was always digging around, both in Tenkai Corporation and out, and more than one opposing company had been soundly defeated thanks to his information.

"Victor, you need to act your age," Yasha sighed in reply, still staring and unaware that he was doing so. "This is not a playground, this is an office! I'm guessing you were the class clown in school, yes?"

"Oh boy, was I!" Kujaku laughed, as he buttoned the last button and retied his tie. "I had 'em all rolling on the floor laughing, even my teachers! I went to a snooty private school, and they were desperate for some fun. I remember this one time, I sneaked into the principal's office and made an announcement using her voice.

"I think it was… 'Hello students, this is Principal Martins. I'd like to share with you that my butt is so big, you can see it from space. And I'm renaming our school Monkeychuckle Preparatory Academy.' Right about then somebody came in and dragged me away, and had to tell them all that it was a 'mean-spirited prank, pay no attention to what was just said.' "

He said all this with a proud grin, and Yasha couldn't help but snicker. Kujaku performed a little bow and bragged, "People were cracking up in every classroom, and apparently the biology teacher laughed so hard he choked. See, Principal Martins was this really boring, dry lady, who did indeed have a big butt. But I got her voice down. They all knew it had to be a prank, but the voice was what made it. I got detention and a full hour of lecturing, and then my parents grounded me, but it was _so _worth it," he concluded with a smirk.

"The things I missed being a good, quiet, obedient student," Yasha chuckled. "I went to a private school too, but the funniest thing that ever happened there was when the art teacher said, 'Oh fuck!' when he spilled a jar of paint all over his pants. Kids still did dumb and mean stuff, but they didn't act out nearly as much as some do in public schools."

"That is one nice thing about private schools," Kujaku agreed. "The riffraff are mostly kept out. Unless of course you're a private school that wants to win at sports, so they let the athletes get away with anything. And I gotta say, the cost is ridiculous sometimes."

"Yes. Anyway, Victor, please try to act more mature," Yasha pleaded, fighting the desire to grab Kujaku's shoulders to make him see how serious he was.

"But James," Kujaku whined, "that's against my nature!"

.

"We," Taishakuten said one Friday morning in October, "are making a tremendous profit."

It was another morning briefing. In fact, in all this time since Yasha had been hired, there had only been once that they hadn't had it, which was when Taishakuten had been sick. Even when one of the Senior VPs was on a business trip, this meeting of minds went on without him, and whichever one it was always made sure to read all the notes, or when applicable be present by video conference.

Today, since it was the week of Halloween, more than half of those present were wearing something holiday-themed. Koumokuten's tie was for once red, but it had little black bats on it. Zouchouten's tie was black with white spiderwebs. Souma was wearing little dagger earrings, instead of the little claw earrings she usually wore. Even Karura and Bishamonten had gotten into the spirit, with little ghost stud earrings and a blood-red tie with the graphic of a leafless, gnarled tree, respectively.

Only three had not tried to have a little fun: Taishakuten, Yasha, and Koumokuten's assistant, Walter Deva. Yasha had thought about it, and then decided that Kujaku's fake scar, tie with a skeleton on it, and belt buckle that said "BOO!" yesterday showed that he would be Halloween-y enough for the both of them.

And today, Kujaku was present for this briefing. Why? Because he'd persuaded Taishakuten to let him bake cookies and bring them in, "And I wanna see what you guys do in those secret meetings!"

Taishakuten had decided to humor him. Surprisingly enough to Yasha (and many other people), Taishakuten found Kujaku interesting and amusing. They got along well, although Kujaku would cheerfully admit, "Oh yeah, he's a handsome Ebeneezer Scrooge times ten," to anyone who asked.

And he was wearing that stupid scar again, and the idiotic belt buckle, and this time a tie with a Frankenstein's monster graphic that said "I LIIIVE!" while the monster held a cup of coffee. Yasha thought Zouchouten should be wearing that tie, because the head of R & D was hopelessly addicted to caffeine, and coffee was his delivery method of choice.

"You're telling me we're making a tremendous profit," Koumokuten grinned in response to Taishakuten's statement. "I'm buying myself a limited-edition car next month! I've had the Porsche for three whole years, anyway."

"Ah," Bishamonten sighed, "money. By God, I love it so."

A vision of his boss performing Michael Palin's "The Money Song" while dancing on the conference table arose in Yasha's mind, while Kujaku shook maracas in the background and whipped his shirt off for Yasha's benefit alone. Next to him, Zouchouten sighed and half-halfheartedly dinged a triangle.

"I love money _too_," Koumokuten enthused, bringing that vision to a terrifying scene of the Marketing VP imitating Kujaku, leaving Yasha clawing his eyes out while Souma screamed, "Oh God, make it _stop!_" and Bishamonten put his hands on his hips, annoyed at being interrupted in his dance. Koumokuten continued, "It makes the world go 'round. Why, without money, how would we show the lower classes how much better we are? Aaron, don't you think money's fantastic?"

"It is nice," Zouchouten agreed, "but it can't buy happiness, you know."

Koumokuten, Taishakuten, Bishamonten, and Deva all gave him incredulous looks. What kind of insane businessman was this?

"Aaron," Taishakuten scolded, "that's not true at all! Why, just the other day I bought myself a vacation home in the Bahamas with a private beach, and I can assure you, I am very happy indeed."

Yasha felt rather sorry for Zouchouten now, because disagreeing with Taishakuten was never a good idea. And indeed, the big man immediately backed down with a hasty, "Of course sir. How silly of me."

The meeting went on, everybody ate the cookies shaped like little severed heads (Koumokuten and Taishakuten seemed pleased by them, Souma seemed a bit disturbed by them), and it was decided that yes, they should do everything in their power to make even _more _dough. Yasha performed his duties flawlessly, and by now had earned the nickname "Best Executive Assistant." He wondered who had started that, and then decided that it didn't matter.

Kuyou had started it, actually. Their friendship just grew and grew and grew, and Yasha had once confessed, "Listen, you can never tell _anyone _this, but… I'm hopelessly in love with Victor."

"Yes, I know," she'd smiled, making him blink in surprise. And here he thought he'd been so good at hiding it!

"James, I think that's a _good _thing," she'd continued. "I like Victor so much, and I think you'd go well together. All you have to do is tell him how you feel!" she'd said in an encouraging tone, as if that would magically make everything perfect.

"Um, well, you know," he'd floundered, "he might not feel that way in return."

At which point Kuyou had heaved a sigh, knowing exactly how that felt. The poor woman was completely and totally gaga for Karl Ashuraou, Taishakuten's nice-guy best friend, although he was more clueless than a preschooler in a college calculus class. Perhaps if she'd said taken her own advice and said something to him instead of expecting him to pick up on her hints of devotion, but alas, he was a rather unobservant man and never knew.

But Yasha _was_ beginning to wonder if, in some way, Kujaku might actually be attracted to him. After all, he was more physical lately. He kept patting him on the back, or the shoulder, or the arm, or the head; noogying him in sneak attacks; and once tapped a finger against his chest and chirped, "Hard like stone! Taekwondo pays major dividends in fitness, huh?"

And he kept watching him, which Yasha honestly didn't know what to think about. Was he doing so because he was bored, and Yasha was entertaining? You just couldn't tell with that man. But he'd say things like, "Y'know, James, you're fun. I like you a lot, I hope you realize that."

And they'd recently had a conversation on, "Ooh, this 'Defense of Marriage' crap makes me mad, James. Altering state constitutions to enshrine discrimination… I think that's just awful. I mean, say you find some guy you love, and you're gonna live together anyway, and be with him all your life. Seems to me making it legal would only help everybody!"

Unfortunately for the two of them, Bishamonten had then demanded Yasha's attention before his assistant could say, "That's a very progressive viewpoint. Um, I don't mean to pry, but are you, well, a straight man who's accepting or a not-straight man with a bigger stake in this issue?"

And by the time he'd worked up the nerve to try to bring that conversation up again, Kujaku was enthusing about the new "Star Trek" movie previews he'd seen, and it had been apparently forgotten. Things might have gone on like this indefinitely, but today was a day that would live in the opposite of infamy. In-infamy? Famy? Famousity? Whatever, this was that most important and joyous of days, Yasha just didn't know it yet.

When he came back from lunch, there was no Kujaku at his desk. This made perfect sense, because he'd just seen him in the cafeteria, doing a walrus impression with two straws up his nose. Souma had been guffawing, and Karura had been sighing, "That's disgusting and immature," when Yasha had gotten fed up with such childishness and walked out.

But there _was _something _on_ the desk, besides the "Victor Kujaku: Secretary GOD" nameplate, the phone, and the computer: Kujaku's sketchbook, which Yasha had never had the chance to look at before. Sure Kujaku had offered to show it to him many times, but always when Yasha had been busy.

He approached the sketchbook cautiously, like Indiana Jones going for the idol in the opening scene of "Raiders of the Lost Ark." He didn't expect a giant stone ball to chase him, but given the way his life worked, he'd get his hands on this treasure only to have Bishamonten pop his head out of his office and snarl, "I'm telling Victor you're snooping in his private effects!"

But Dr. Jones was in luck, because Bishamonten was engrossed in a report, humming Queen's "I Want It All" as he plotted the destruction of another innocent company. He had no idea that his assistant had just opened the sketchbook to see a detailed ink drawing of a crow.

Impressed, Yasha turned a page to see a pencil portrait of Kujaku's mom, then dad, then… cartoon childhood pets? Okay, now the paperclip ferret made a bit more sense. Fascinated, he leafed through the book, then gasped at a page about halfway through. This was _him!_

Multiple hims, actually. Bust drawings mostly, with varying expressions ranging from angry to scarily happy (clearly these were from Kujaku's imagination) to distraught. He saw 3/4ths grinning Yasha, he saw profile pouting Yasha, he saw front-facing Yasha sprawled back on a pillow looking really –

Oh. Holy. God. His expression was one usually seen in porn flicks! His hair was spread out, his face was flushed, and he was probably naked (the image cut off at his upper abs). Many people, having encountered a coworker's artist's interpretation of them in the throes of passion, would have immediately called a lawyer to file a sexual harassment suit. But Yasha wasn't many people, and _he _was suddenly filled with hope.

_So he __does__ fantasize about me! _he thought almost giddily. _He imagines my sex face!_

He was severely tempted to keep paging through this book, and see if Kujaku had drawn any actual nudity. Or if he were really lucky, he'd see a doodle of chibi Yasha being hugged or kissed by chibi Kujaku, or a romantic sketch of the two of them in the moonlight, or cartoon Kujaku daydreaming about him, the thought bubble shaped like a heart. Or maybe he'd see some gay por–

"Hold me and looove me, just wanna touch you for a minute," Kujaku's voice came from outside the door, and before Yasha could put the sketchbook down, the secretary had thrown the door open and walked in, still singing the song Yasha immediately associated with him. "Maybe three seconds –"

He caught sight of his friend then, and proudly asked, "Oh! James, do you like my drawings? I used to wanna be a comic artist. I took classes on it, but then my dad insisted I stop it and focus on business. But I try to keep my hand in, because it's a shame to let such hard-acquired talent fall by the wayside. Did you see the crow? That was a life study."

"Yes, it was very good, and in ink too," Yasha replied, then took the bull by the horns and continued, "Victor, I couldn't help but notice that you drew… _me_." He held the pictures up, tapping the sex one with an index finger.

"I sure did," Kujaku grinned. "You have a very expressive face, even though usually you have three expressions: grumpy, blank, and smiling slightly. But I've seen you get really mad, and laugh, and be sad when we found that dead baby rabbit on the side of the trail when we were hiking. I added some I haven't seen, like the one where you look sheepishly nervous."

"Yes. Well. I was more noticing the one where I'm having an orgasm," Yasha said bluntly. "Now _why _did you draw _me _of all people like that?"

"Oh, I made emotion sheets for everybody," Kujaku informed him matter-of-factly. "And they all have 'orgasmic' as one of 'em. You wanna see Xavier's? I'm really pleased with the way I got his –"

"NO!" Yasha barked, appalled. Seeing even a sketch of climactic Koumokuten would no doubt send him to the restroom to hurl up his lunch. There were people out there who were uglier, but he was willing to bet most of them didn't have such a completely arrogant and downright evil personality, and that was what really made him shudder around the Marketing VP.

"Why is that a standard for your drawings?!" he asked in disgust, suddenly afraid that Kujaku was some sort of nympho who slept with the world.

"Because everybody uses that expression at least once, most of us all the time," Kujaku replied cheerfully. "It certainly beats 'homicidal,' don't you think?"

Yasha had to admit that that was true. Still…

"I thought I was special," he muttered sullenly. To find out that Kujaku drew everybody, with sex faces no less, was a bit of a blow to his ego. So much for the fantasy idea. Clearly, he was just a pal to the person he wanted to kiss-tackle, and –

"Oh but James, you _are_ special," the other man said quietly, with a serious look on his face. "Why do you think I drew you first?"

For a moment Yasha just froze, wondering if this were some sort of dream. Kujaku had just said he was special! And by the tone of his voice and the way he was looking at him, he wasn't talking about "best friend" special. Yasha sure hoped this was real, because if it was, his life had just improved dramatically.

"I spent the most time on you, too," Kujaku continued, slightly nervous at Yasha's lack of response. "I mean, this page has shading, none of the others do. Look, I was kinda, um… see, I was kinda hoping you might…"

He trailed off and they stared at each other, tension nearly palpable in the air. Not confrontational tension, oh no. This was _sexual _tension, and that was the best kind to have. All they needed for this to be some sort of iconic romance scene was an appropriate soundtrack, although maybe Kujaku's earlier singing of Lady Gaga would fit the bill.

Kujaku took a deep breath and finally concluded, "I was hoping you might, you know, want to go out to dinner sometime."

Yasha's instinct was to bellow, "YES!" and lift Kujaku up and spin him around. Barring that, he wanted to grin like a loon and give him a hug, thus demonstrating his seriousness. After all, he never touched people if he could help it.

As Kujaku nervously awaited Yasha's answer, Bishamonten suddenly slammed the door open and ordered, "James, I want the file for Schmitz immediately."

Kujaku now glared at Bishamonten. The man had interrupted this most important conversation! Just for that, he was going to use the hillbilly accent the rest of today, and write a poem called "Reginald Is a Doofus," and maybe even page someone with the name of "Carla Caramel-Carlton," or something equally silly.

Yasha used his expert poker face, despite wanting to go into a rage and punch Bishamonten in the jaw. Instead, he nodded and replied, "Of course, sir. Oh, Victor? I'm free tonight for that get-together," he said, as casually as he could.

Kujaku's expression changed from near-homicidal to beaming glee, and he laughed, "Sounds great. Six-thirty, my house?"

"I'll be there," Yasha grinned. "You know, I –"

"Socialization time is over now," Bishamonten snapped, for all the world some sort of military commander faced with misbehaving personnel. "Arrange things like that on your breaks, gentlemen. James, go get me that file. Victor, stop smiling like a fool and type up my speech."

Yasha and Kujaku obeyed the work orders, but they were both still smiling like fools.

.

"III… am going on a date with Jaaames!" Kujaku sang to his mirror as he brushed his hair. "We're going to go have some piiie… and I feel like I can flyyy! All the way to the skyyy… um… Oh! Is this what it feels like to be hiiigh?"

They'd decided to just meet at the restaurant, which was halfway between their houses: a Bakers Square, "because I love pie!" Kujaku had said enthusiastically. Yasha liked pie too, so he was down with that.

So Kujaku sang his little song ad nauseum, and Yasha hummed "Lovegame" as he got ready in his own house, and by the time they got to the restaurant, each of them was more stoked than should be legal. Kujaku was grinning, Yasha was grinning, and an older lady grinned too, just seeing such happy young'uns.

Kujaku considered giving him a hug, and then remembered the "Do not touch James Yasha" rule, and so settled for a peppy, "Hey howdy hey! This place is almost deserted! Let's request a table far away from everybody else."

And that was exactly what they did. They ordered their drinks (decaf tea for Yasha, a chocolate shake for Kujaku), and the minute the waitress was gone, Kujaku smirked, "Nobody in hearing range, if we talk really quietly."

He unzipped his jacket, and Yasha could now see that the man was wearing a "Star Wars: The Phantom Menace" t-shirt that said "Meesa Jah-Jah Binks!" with that unforgettable side character waving at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon in a swamp. Yasha sighed; Kujaku probably found Jar-Jar hilarious.

"Oh, I see you're looking at my shirt," Kujaku grinned. "I found it at a thrift store! On the same trip, I found an old MC Hammer 'Can't Touch This' muscle tee. It was a good haul," he reminisced, also recalling the neon purple bellbottoms he'd tried on just for fun. He hadn't bought those, but every Halloween, he wished he had.

"You certainly have eccentric tastes," Yasha muttered, almost in exasperation. "And it started young. I saw your childhood pets in your sketchbook: a one-eyed cat, a mouse, a lizard, and a ferret. You seem to have spent the most time on the ferret, and am I correct that it was the inspiration for that sculpture you created a while back?"

"Yeah, Biggles was my pal," Kujaku fondly replied. "I took great care of him, and he lived to be really old. Having him put to sleep was the hardest thing I've ever done, but it was the right decision. He was in so much pain. Anyway, I put the sculpture right next to a big framed photo of him, and it brings back some great memories," he finished, smiling slightly.

"That's sweet," Yasha said honestly. "You're a kind person like that."

"To people I like and animals, yeah," Kujaku said seriously, "but James, I can be pretty nasty sometimes. I try not to be, but get me mad enough and I feel like I want to… to melt somebody's face off, or something!"

Yasha blinked, a bit perturbed. Then again, he often felt like getting a katana and slicing his enemies down the middle in one swift stroke, or learning sorcery and turning Koumokuten into goo, for example. And the world would thank him for that last one, he was pretty darn sure. Well, maybe not the jerk's bratty daughter, but the rest of humanity would! …Minus Bishamonten, Taishakuten, Zouchouten, and Vahyu, but they were too close to the situation and weren't objective at all. So there.

Right then the waitress arrived with their drinks, and they hastily ordered their meals, both being familiar with the menu. Once she was gone, bearing their orders back to the kitchen, Kujaku changed the subject with, "So I'm really, really glad this worked out."

"So am I," Yasha said fervently. "So… I'm guessing you must be bisexual, yes?"

"Yeah," Kujaku nodded. "And you? Now I think, just going by the way you got all scared when that pretty sales rep tried to hug you, that you do not, in fact, find women attractive whatsoever. True?"

"Yes. And I don't advertise it," Yasha sighed. "I hide it, really. People can be incredibly hate-filled."

"Well, I'm not flamboyantly out there either, but you shouldn't be ashamed of something that's part of what you are. And it's not the most important thing about you! I mean, c'mon, it's not like," Kujaku did a Yasha impression, " 'Hi, I'm James Yasha, and I'm _gaaayyy_. The fact that I like men _obviously _negates everything else I do and think and have earned!' Yeah people can take it too far, Charles is a great example of that, but I honestly think it shouldn't be a huge deal."

Yasha had to chuckle a bit at Kujaku's impression of him as a Vahyu wannabe. The fluttered eyelashes with the grumpy face and tone were what made it, really.

"I guess. But – you know," he said in exasperation, "people like Charles give the rest of us a bad name. Did you see him hit on that janitor the other day?"

"Yeah," Kujaku snickered. "What was his stupid line? Oh yeah: 'You're a man who looks _good _in overalls and carrying a bucket. You know what's on my bucket list? To do it with a sexy janitor!' That, right there, should really be grounds for him being fired, it's so unprofessional."

"I want to roundhouse-kick that man," Yasha snarled. "I told you about the spaghetti, I think."

"You did. Did I ever tell you about the time he hit on me? It was right after he'd been made Advertising Manager, and it was at the little party thing for him. So I'm eating some cake, right?" Kujaku sighed, rolling his eyes heavenwards in exasperation. "And he comes over, and he steals my fork! I say something like, 'That's _my _cake I was just about to eat, you flaming fruit basket!' And he just winks and replies, 'I'll feed it to you. You know, you have such _sexy _eyes.' "

Yasha growled low in his throat as Kujaku went on, "So here's what I did: I grabbed _his _fork and stabbed his hand. When he screamed, I just told him, 'Don't make me stab your cojones, Charlie.' And when Xavier came over to ask what the fuck was that all about, I told _him_, 'Charles is gunning for a harassment suit, sir!' And then he yelled at him too," he finished with an evil smile.

"Brilliant," Yasha complimented, with an equally evil smile. "But back to us. I mean, look, I really… for months now, I…"

"James," Kujaku said firmly, going for broke, "I love you, and I want you to kiss me. I've wanted you for months, and ever since I saw you check me out when I sang 'Lovegame,' I've been wondering if you feel the same." As he said this he leaned forwards across the table, his eyes half-lidded and going for as sultry an expression as he could.

Stunned by the fact that Kujaku loved him back, Yasha's "No gay actions in public" walls fell down. Only for a little while, but it was enough. He closed his eyes, leaned forwards too, and kissed him.

BLISS! It was like fireworks, without the burns and loud noises. It was like payday, times a zillion. It was like winning a taekwondo trophy, minus all the hard work and bruises. It was like putting the final paperclip on a sculpture, but even more fun. It was like –

"Daddy?" a tiny voice piped up from the left. "Why is that man kissing that other man?"

The spell was broken, and Yasha's eyes shot open in near-terror, as he jerked away. Oh shit! Now he would be subjected to a furious lecture on sin, and with his luck someone he knew would come in right then, and then they'd –

"Well, Susie," the dad who'd just sat down at a table three away said cheerfully, patting his three-year-old daughter's head, "some men like other men, and not women. It's just how they are. Not every woman likes men, either. It's not a bad thing, it's just part of life."

Kujaku flashed the dad a thumbs-up and a grin as Yasha let out a shaky breath. Safe! Although next time, he might not be so lucky, so best to keep such demonstrations of affection behind closed doors.

"So James," Kujaku said rather breathlessly, "I'll take that as a whacking-great 'yes' to my question, which I'm so happy about I want to break into a song and dance number. We could waltz on the table, except I've mostly forgotten how to waltz, but you get the drift. Maybe I could pick it back up again, and we could wear open romantic shirts or something equally visually arresting."

And so they talked about love. And when the food came, they ate it and talked about more love. And when the pie came, they shared their pies: cherry for Yasha, peanut butter cup for Kujaku. And to use a Biblical phrase, they saw that it was good.

Yasha gallantly paid the bill, feeling extra manly. Not that Kujaku was girly, he could be pretty manly too, but tonight Yasha felt like he could go wrestle a bear and win. It was a nice feeling, being the strong, studly one who paid the check. And he couldn't _wait _to see Kujaku be manly some other time, as he'd assured him he would be.

"I feel fricking _great _now," Kujaku told Yasha as they exited the restaurant and began the walk back to their cars. "It's – well, it's…"

And because he felt so happy, Yasha used a Graham Chapman voice and intoned, "Monty Python's Flying Circus."

Kujaku froze and whipped his head towards him, his mouth open. Suddenly afraid that he'd sounded incredibly stupid, Yasha apologized, "Sorry. See, it's this thing in the opening credits: Michael Palin's castaway comes up and says, 'It's…' and then they say – well, you know."

Kujaku was absolutely beaming as he replied, "I… James, I _love _Monty Python!"

Yasha beamed back at him, as flowers burst overhead, harp music played, and God said, "Lo, James Yasha, this is thy one true love. Thou must bind thyself to this man and his paperclips."

Actually, those were dry old leaves rattling on the sidewalk, the harp music was an obnoxious rap song blasting from that car over there, and God was a grumpy fat man snapping, "You're blockin' the sidewalk, assholes! Move it!"… but neither of Bishamonten's underlings noticed that at all.

As the grumpy fat man shoved past and continued on his bad-tempered way, Yasha looked deep into Kujaku's gorgeous eyes, took a deep breath, and asked, with a British accent, "Want to come back to my place?"

Kujaku linked his arm through Yasha's and replied, "Oh yes indeed. Yes, I do want to come back to your place… and maybe I won't leave for a full two days."

.

It was two days later. All around Yasha's normally pristine house, stuff was scattered. Like clothes, abandoned plates, and a number of used things unsuitable for mention. The sound system was currently playing "I Believe in Miracles," after running through Yasha's "Songs About Victor" mixed CD ("Lovegame" was number one on the disc) no less than twenty-one times in a row. And it was a _long_ CD.

From the pile of blankets and pillows that had at one point been a neatly-made bed, a head popped out. Kujaku blinked sleepy eyes, yawned, and looked at the clock, then frowned like the machine was making an obscene gesture at him.

"Hey, it's ten in the evening," he sighed, sounding rather annoyed about that. "If I don't go home and get some new clothes, Reginald will blow his stack tomorrow morning."

Yasha considered this. He could see it now: Kujaku showing up in wrinkled jeans and "Star Wars" t-shirt, wearing a satisfied grin and showing Bishamonten his new hickey collection. "See Reginald," he'd laugh, lifting up his shirt, "I told you I'd have fun over the weekend! James, show him yours too."

Yasha paled and poked his head out from the blanket nest as well, nervously suggesting, "Victor, um… maybe this shouldn't be mentioned to Reginald. Or anyone at Tenkai Corporation."

Kujaku frowned, shifting to stare Yasha in the eye, and asked, "Oh, you're ashamed of me now?"

Yasha shook his head vehemently and quickly assured him, "Not you! Just, um… the fact that you're, well, male," he finished in a sheepish mumble. It sounded incredibly stupid even to him, but maybe Kujaku wouldn't push it.

Kujaku cocked his own head, and pushed it. "Why James, really? You mean you never noticed?" he asked sarcastically, arching a brow. "See, when most people have their hands on –"

"That's not what I meant!" Yasha snapped, exasperated. "It's just that I've never told them I, er, swing the other way, and judging by Reginald's expression whenever he sees Charles, he might be a tad disturbed by it."

Actually, Bishamonten was only disgusted at the sight of Vahyu because the Ad Manager had once shown up at his hotel room door, wearing leather pants and holding up a bottle of wine while winking suggestively. Bishamonten had no problem with homosexuality, it was just that Vahyu's pants had left little to the imagination, he disliked him anyway, and the head of Expansion was kind of _not_-gay. At all.

But Yasha and Kujaku had no way of knowing this. All they knew was that Bishamonten always endeavored to have someone between him and Vahyu during meetings, meals, and plane rides. Zouchouten did the same thing, for reasons he had never told anyone else about. (They involved a hot tub, a "lost" Speedo, and a question of "Aaron, why are you leaning away? I don't bite… unless you're into that.")

So Kujaku considered and came up with, "But living in the closet sucks mold. People commit suicide over it! And everyone will wonder why neither of us goes out with women anymore."

Yasha sighed, "In a perfect world where everyone was accepting and no one was disturbed by it, I'd announce it over the company intercom. But my work life is important to me, and do you really think they'll let us work in the same office and sleep together?"

Kujaku thought for a moment, then ventured, "Promise me no cover girlfriends?"

That was the easiest promise Yasha would ever have to make. "I promise, no cover girlfriends. And far from Tenkai Corporation, I'll wear open shirts and ballroom dance with you. I'll write you poems. I'll invite you to my house for elaborate dinners and passionate lovemaking. I'll even – I'll even tattoo your name on my hip!" he proclaimed, flush with the giddiness that comes from requited and consummated love.

Tapping Yasha lightly on the nose, the secretary grinned, "You don't have to do that last one. And in return, I will never come right out and say I'm sleeping with you until you break it to everyone first. Of course," he qualified, "I can't promise I won't make double entendres that go over their heads, or try to make you realize you should confess to the world."

That was fair, and Yasha said as much.

Finally, after much smooching and saying things like, "Oh, I guess I can stay a _little _longer," Kujaku reluctantly disengaged himself from Yasha's arms, and went in search of his clothes. The smiley-face boxers were easy to find, but it took him a while to locate his Jar-Jar shirt, which had ended up on the lamp in the kitchen. Yasha, robe-clad and smirking, located the jeans, which were draped over the couch.

"Well, Victor," he finally said when Kujaku was fully dressed again, "I've said it before but I'll say it again: I love you, and you've made me very happy. Now, whenever we're completely sure we're alone, we can be passionate in all sorts of ways."

"James," Kujaku replied after he gave him one final kiss, "we are _so _dirty dancing to 'Lovegame' next time."

.

.

(AN: I've written Kujaku pursuing Yasha before, and while I still think that might be more in line with the manga it was fun to turn it around. Ha, Yasha's gift of paperclips went completely over Kujaku's head, heh-heh. Oh, and as far as I know there is no book called The Monty Python Joke Tome, same with the samurai book. And "Biggles" is the name of one of the cardinals in Monty Python's Spanish Inquisition sketch.

Wuddles World is a creation of my sister and my brother, and is used with their permission. Oh, you comedy genius younger siblings you! I've tweaked it a bit, and it certainly isn't in Kusumapura in their version, but hopefully I've done such a lulzy thing justice.

Ooh, a note about reviews: I _appreciate_ people telling me what I've done wrong. This entire story is finished [and I had pretty much set the characters' personalities in stone earlier with "Adele"], but I certainly take feedback into account for future fics. Don't be afraid to log on and tell me just what you think, as I would thank you if you give constructive criticism, seriously. Obviously I pay attention to guest reviews, but I like to be able to tell someone in person how helpful their feedback was. If you didn't like it, why and what could I do better? If you did like it, why and what should I keep doing? Thanks in advance!

The next chapter is Tamara, Aguni, and Koumokuten, with the adults dancing under a full moon with roses between their teeth and whispering things like, "Take me to Paradise in your loving arms."

Just kidding! That would be downright terrifying, and quite out of character. Here's what it actually contains: two harassed assistants mentioned briefly in "Adele," Tamara giving Shashi a run for her money in conniving, and Koumokuten sneaking out of his mansion by way of the roof. Plus Aguni unwittingly torturing a rodent with her voice. It's actually the funniest installment, I think.)


	2. Fiery

**Chapter Two: Fiery**

_Gym teachers are scary anyway, and Tamara hates Aguni Steel. Too bad her dad thinks Ms. Steel is wonderful._

.

.

(AN: If the idea of a woman actually finding Koumokuten attractive makes you ill, you might wanna skip this installment. If it makes you snicker, good, because that's what I'm going for here. Of course, there _is_ romance, but I would say a good eighty-five percent of that is humorous. Not to mention we see poor, tortured Walter Deva and Percy Rudra, executive assistants whose time at Tenkai Corporation is measured, and I personally think Rudra's last scene is quite funny.

Oh, a couple warnings: there's a few illegal, immoral activities our male protagonist engages in, and Aguni gives him a rather disturbing pet name. Plus there's completely non-involved/non-explicit naughty business and adult language. And Tamara's a slut.

So prepare for pyromania and exceedingly violent metaphors [and fantasies], as we see how the unholy union of Xavier Koumokuten and Aguni Steel came to be. And a lot of songs, mostly classic rock. The first few scenes actually take place before most of "Let's Play a Lovegame," but soon this installment falls into place after it.)

.

.

(August 1st, 2006)

Tamara "Princess" Koumokuten, ten years old and clad all in black, watched the gravestones flash by as the limo left the cemetery. It was drizzling, appropriately enough, because a gorgeous sunny day for a funeral kind of spoiled the somber mood. And a thunderstorm would have ruined it too, so she approved of this merely rainy, gloomy weather.

"Daddy," she sighed, "I wish Mommy was still here."

Actually, she only wished that because now she only had _one _parent to spoil her, but her dad didn't need to know that. And hey, all this attention as a half-orphan was intoxicating. It was like her birthday, except everybody was sad and she wasn't getting any loot.

"Sweetie," Xavier Koumokuten sighed back, sounding choked up, "your mom's in Heaven now." _Actually, _he qualified mentally, _I sent Melissa to Hell, but Tamara doesn't have to know that. She never will, and damn it if she doesn't seem almost excited about all of this._

He hugged his daughter around the shoulders, looking solemn, and told her, "You've been so brave through all of this, honey. I'm proud of you."

Tamara started to smile before her acting skills caught up with her, and she sniffled, "I'm still really sad, Daddy." An idea occurred to her then, and she casually asked, "Will I get a new mommy soon? A nice one?"

Koumokuten thought fast, a little surprised, and came up with, "No, sweetheart. No one can ever hope to replace your mom," he said in pathos. "Maybe someday I'll get married again –" _like hell I will, after that ordeal, _"– but it's too soon now."

Tamara nodded. Oh well, it had been worth a shot…

Half an hour later found Koumokuten serving himself a generous helping of egg salad, the funeral luncheon just getting started. Aaron Zouchouten, who was probably his closest friend, went down to Tamara's level next to him with a concerned expression on his face.

"How are you holding up, Tamara?" he rumbled quietly, down on one knee so she wouldn't have to crane her neck to look him in the eye. "You must be very sad."

She nodded solemnly, holding her plate of brownies, cookies, and Rice Krispy Treats (funeral luncheons _rocked_), and answered, "Yes. But Daddy says she'll still love me, and watch over me from Heaven," she said piously.

Zouchouten, who was an atheist, nodded quickly and agreed, "Of course she will. Xavier," he asked, getting up, "how are _you _doing?"

"As well as can be expected," Koumokuten sighed, snagging a brownie of his own. "I mean, God, Aaron, I came downstairs that morning and found my wife dead. Blood everywhere, I had to scream."

"I know," Zouchouten said, putting an apple on his plate. "That must have been awful," he murmured, and patted his buddy gently on the shoulder in an "I feel your pain" manner.

"It was such a shock," Koumokuten murmured back. "I just can't believe she's gone."

This was true, in the same way a man on Death Row can't believe he's been suddenly pardoned. He felt like dancing a jig, just like some Irish "Riverdance" extra, or something. Or a Scottish sword dancer, maybe (he wasn't into folk dancing, so he had no idea who actually jigged). Point was, he was holding himself back from celebrating. Once the coroner had taken his deceased wife away, he had refrained from yelling, "YES! It worked, yeah baby yeah!" He had _wanted _to grin and find himself three call girls in celebration, but that would make the police exceedingly suspicious.

As it was, they thought it was a tragic accident caused by carelessly spilled soapy dishwater. Koumokuten had made sure to fire the maid, using his best "It's your fault she slipped and hit her head, you're lucky I'm not suing you" act. So, while inside he was pointing and laughing at everyone's "Melissa was a wonderful woman who'll be missed" lies, he was well aware that he had to keep it down.

Possibly for years. Well, he would sigh and act depressed and make sure to set up a scholarship in her name, because prison would be worse than living with his wife (his _dead _wife, ha ha!). And actually, now that he thought about it, maybe he'd stay away from women. Forever. After all, Melissa had been fun and sweet and sexy at first, and then she'd turned into Bridezilla and never looked back.

But back to playing "bereaved widower," he thought as Zouchouten tried to find something nice to say about the deceased. He would make sure to never, ever date for years (although perhaps something for the night could be surreptitiously arranged on foreign business trips), he would refrain from rubbing his hands together and cackling when he saw the granite counter, and he would tell Tamara he missed her mom ever so very much.

But the thing was, he couldn't act _too _grief-stricken, or they'd get suspicious. He needed to play the part of henpecked husband suddenly alone, not bowled over by sadness but well aware that society required tears. If he laid it on too thick, they'd all think he was hiding something.

But he could do it. After all, Koumokuten thought proudly, he was a very good actor. He'd gotten rave reviews for his Iago in his college production of "Othello," and even more praise for his Wicked Warlock of the West in his high school's "The Wizard of Oz."

_When all this is over, I'll have given Oscar winners a run for their money, _he mused, as Tamara accepted yet another "You poor dear" hug as her due.

.

(September 27th, 2010)

"Mr. Koumokuten," Walter Deva said in his customary monotone, "I've ordered the cake for your daughter, sir." And paid for it, because if there was one thing Xavier "Evil Marketing Motherfucker" Koumokuten expected from his "henchmen" (aka assistants), it was that they serve him like he was some sort of feudal lord without complaint.

"Good," Koumokuten said absently, aiming a rubber band at the back of Reginald Bishamonten's left ear.

Not "Thank you," oh no. Deva was a stolid man, emotionally reserved, but two years of being Koumokuten's assistant had him punching his walls when he went home. His boss was the bane of his existence, but he did pay well.

Koumokuten was a brilliant Marketing executive, because after all, ads, product pitches, and stupid slogans were, in fact, _evil. _And he embraced this evil side… so tightly that it was suffocating to death. He thought he was a movie villain, or some equally idiotic but very fitting role, and his employees lived in terror of him. Often a newbie would be discovered bawling by the water cooler, trying to make a deal with God that they could be transferred over to Research and Development (Zouchouten's domain), or at least Expansion (Bishamonten's domain).

Koumokuten sighted down the rubber band as Bishamonten snapped into his phone, verbally executing a traitor, or in non-Koumokuten/Taishakuten terms, chastising a businessperson who'd gone back on an agreement. Deva sighed, watched Koumokuten smirk, and rolled his eyes ceilingwards as the dark terror let the rubber band go.

"And if you think you can – OW!" Bishamonten yelled, whipping around with his eyes blazing.

Koumokuten waved, grinning nastily, as Zouchouten looked up from his laptop, startled. Ha, bullseye! He chalked up a point on the scoreboard of mean games, and handed himself the "Pissing Off the Tightass" trophy.

"Excuse me for a moment," Bishamonten smiled into the phone, then covered the receiver and hissed, "Xavier you idiot, this is not kindergarten! Be _mature!_"

Koumokuten just put his hands behind his head, whistling "In the Dark of the Night," Rasputin's song from the animated movie "Anastasia." As Bishamonten went back to his chastising, Zouchouten took off his reading glasses and glared, ordering, "Xavier, don't do that. Taishakuten will –"

"I thought it was a very fine shot, sir," Charles Vahyu fawned, folding his hands like a good little suck-up. "Walter, don't you think so?"

"Yes sir," Deva intoned, handing Koumokuten a vanilla frappuccino and thinking, _Two more months, Walter. Then you can take your two-week vacation! Your wife booked the "Romantic Rivers" suite in a historic Yellowstone hotel, and you can unwind all the tension from being this lunatic's errand boy. Two months, Walter, that's all. You can do it._

"Mr. Koumokuten sir," Vahyu tittered (Deva was disgusted that a man could titter), "I'm having a little party this weekend. A pool party, and I just thought, if you and your daughter would like to come –"

"Thanks but no thanks," Koumokuten interjected, opening his own laptop. "I've seen you in your European 'swimwear' once before, Charles, and it was more than enough."

The Ad Manager pouted, and Deva had to fight off a horrible mental image of Vahyu and Koumokuten sprawled back on a silk-sheeted bed, toasting each other with blood-red wine. Vahyu would feed his boss expensive chocolates, and simper, "Oh _sir_, I can be your loyal minion. I'll call you 'Master' and you can order me around all you _want._"

Fortunately for the world, like most other people Vahyu found Koumokuten unattractive and would never feed him chocolates. However, he was rather evil himself (he was, after all, in advertising), and was impressed by his overlord's image. And his power, don't forget that.

Deva's day got worse. He longingly looked over at Ellen Karura, Zouchouten's assistant, who was thanking her boss for holding the door for her, then back at Koumokuten, who was yelling into his phone as they walked to lunch: "Listen Wimbles, if you and your pasty Brit audience deem the new ad campaign 'too spicy,' I think that says something more about _you _than us! Here in America seven-year-olds watch R-rated movies, and _we_ say two models bouncing around on the hood of a car is appropriate for afternoon viewing!"

Deva mentally whisked himself away to Yellowstone, where eruptions were more frequent but not devastating to one's soul. Yes, if he concentrated on geological hotspots, he'd be all right.

"So fine, pull the ad," Koumokuten sneered, cutting in front of Nina Souma for the elevator. "Then we're pulling our advertising dollars! You'll be sorry, oh yes you will…"

Deva just managed to get into the elevator, Souma blinking and glaring as the doors closed and Koumokuten pressed the button for the cafeteria floor. Oh well, at least the next one wouldn't have Mr. Meanie in it. Some days, she wanted to push him under an oncoming eighteen-wheeler.

After a lunch spent envisioning Old Faithful as Koumokuten complained about Wimbles to a disgusted Zouchouten, Deva found himself passing the bastard more coffee in a Marketing meeting. He was good with coffee. He got the order right, he practically ran it to his boss, and he obediently threw the used cups away when Koumokuten left them sitting empty on the table.

The subject of this meeting was a device called "Elysian," a smartphone that had been designed for parents to give to their young children. It had parental controls galore, and the prototype was made from recycled plastics and electronic components. Deva considered getting one for his nephew, because this thing looked awesome.

"I think 'Elysian' is a stupid name for this product," Koumokuten thought aloud. "Classical mythology references are above the average customer. We need something modern that the whole world knows."

"Like 'Cloud Nine,' " Vahyu suggested, as Deva dutifully wrote that name down. "Or 'Pure Win.' "

"Or!" Koumokuten said exuberantly. "Or, we ditch the Heaven angle and take it in the other direction, because Hell is more interesting and the public loves edgy darkness. What if we call it… 'Hellfire.' "

Deva gripped his pen hard, but wrote that one down too.

"Yeah… Hellfire," Koumokuten almost sang, his "genius proposal" smile on his face. "We can have them manufacture it in black instead of green! We can have a slogan like 'Feel the burn'! And we can have Brian Johnson from AC/DC – no wait, he's still mad about the Photoshopped pics from the Razorblade ad campaign."

The entire room held its breath as he thought, waiting for the next bit of marketing magic. Save for Deva, who was holding back a scream. Research and Development had begun Elysian as an eco-friendly, parent-assisting service to humanity, and now it was being twisted into a Satan-worshipping reflection of Xavier Koumokuten's soul.

The supposed cultist snapped his fingers, having had another brainwave. He grinned, "We use _Angus Young! _We write a catchy ditty, have him do a guitar solo, and have computer-animated devils in the ads. Walter," he said offhandedly, "get me Angus's number."

And suddenly it was all too much to take. "No," Deva said firmly, and a sudden, horrified silence fell.

Koumokuten turned his head very, very slowly to look at his assistant. "What do you mean, 'no'?" he asked in that deadly whisper used for bad little minions.

Deva was off the chain, and he stood up abruptly so he could look down at his boss as he answered, "I mean that I'm quitting, Mr. Koumokuten. I have had quite enough of you twisting everything good into something bad because it sells better. I have also had quite enough of dealing with your abuse."

His voice getting louder, he continued, "You treat your underlings like slave labor, you think the world is your playground, and to use that metaphor again you're the bully everybody hates but nobody stands up to!" He picked up his notepad, and smacked Koumokuten upside the head with it. As the room gasped, Deva yelled, "You are _evil! _And I've had enough!"

Before Koumokuten could strangle him with his tie, he picked up his former boss's untouched coffee, and with a stern, "This is _mine_," he stalked out of the room.

Everyone stared after him, openmouthed, then as one every other head swiveled to look at Koumokuten. He glared, thought, and closed his mouth, then snapped, "Someone call HR and tell them I need a new assistant. One who's actually got emotions I can see, not hidden beneath the surface waiting to explode under pressure."

Hours later, having had a difficult day of utilizing a temp assistant and having to (gasp!) pay for his own coffee, Koumokuten put his briefcase down in his back hallway, happy to be home. It was a _great _home, a mansion with a home theater, a pool, a hot tub, a kick-ass gym, and one of those giant trampolines in the back yard because his daughter liked those.

"Tamara?" he called as he entered the living room. "Honey? I'm back!"

"She's sulking, sir," a kindly female voice came from the armchair on the left. "Something about her gym teacher picking on her." The way this was said, the speaker clearly thought Tamara was being dramatic.

"Minnie," Koumokuten sighed, loosening his tie, "next time give her candy and nod sympathetically. It works wonders."

Minnie was the housekeeper… technically. In reality, she was the babysitter when Koumokuten was out of the house, the maid when Tamara wrecked the living room in a tantrum, and the slave when Koumokuten needed errands run. She was on call twenty-four/seven, but she was paid exceptionally well so she could handle it. She'd dealt with a lot, but she'd always managed to sail on through.

She was a sweet woman. She'd taken the job because she felt sorry for poor widowed Koumokuten, who'd practically blown up the house making dinner after Melissa's death, after the casseroles and pre-made meals had stopped coming in. By now the man had become very competent at cooking, but Minnie was still essential.

She stood up to go now, marking her place in a Miss Marple whodunit and pushing her glasses up her face, maternally pointing out, "Sir, that spoils a child, rewarding them for complaining." Then, realizing how useless that would be, she changed the subject with a pleasant, "How was your day?"

"Awful," Koumokuten grumbled. "I got beaten with a notebook for no reason whatsoever."

.

Early the next morning, in a house with a Spanish-style orange roof, no gardens, and a doorknocker in the shape of a flaming dragon, one Aguni Steel was singing to herself in her bathtub. She was singing Chaka Khan's "I'm Every Woman" and downright belting it, shampooing her long hair and grinning at the no less than eleven scented candles placed around the room. They were a mixture of scents from pine to watermelon to vanilla, but she didn't care. She didn't light them for the _scent_, she lit them for the _fire._

Aguni was a pyromaniac, one who'd scared all the other Girl Scouts at age seven when she'd ignited a bonfire while they were all struggling to strike the matches. She adored that moment of ignition, had made sure to buy a house with a giant fireplace, and just loved elderly family members' birthday parties, because they had so many candles on the cake. She'd made friends with fire, and it liked her because she let it run around so often. For her part, she thought nothing was as beautiful as a dancing flame.

As she sang the part of the song about, "Mix a special brew, put fire inside of you," she flung her arms out, splashing water onto the tile in exuberant joy. Yes, she was a divine femme fatale, and so what if the handsome neighbor on the right paled and went back inside when she sunbathed? She was much more badass than he was, anyway.

After getting out of the tub, stalking naked through her house because that was what divine femme fatales did, and blow-drying her luxurious mane, she garbed herself in gym shorts and an "OBEY" t-shirt. And giant gold earrings. The earrings were important!

_Hmmm, today's the day we start weight training, _she thought as she drove to work.

As a gym teacher, it was her duty to transform the soft, weak little whiners of today into strong, healthy soldiers for tomorrow. They could be daycare providers for all she cared, but they would be disciplined, _fit _daycare providers. In her class, you stepped it up or you got a lecture, and she was good at being scary. They cried, they whined, they begged for mercy, but she never gave it to them because what didn't kill you made you stronger! Principal Dawson thought she was too hard on the students, but ha-ha, the parents often thanked her.

"Bobby used to be fat and cause all sorts of trouble," they'd say, "but now he's lost fifteen pounds and is too tired to hang out with those bad-influence friends! Thanks, Ms. Steel."

"Why you're welcome, Mr. and Ms. Jones," she'd reply. "I'm just doing my job."

With such reinforcement, no wonder Aguni was a drill sergeant. And she was convinced that she was being an angel of fitness mercy, and they'd thank her later in life. Obesity was on the rise, but not in Ms. Steel's class! And if she had her way, every fatty in America would be subjected to a no-frills diet and sessions with her, which would work wonders for their porky selves.

When it was time for the first class, she smiled at the students, half of which cringed. That prissy little Tamara Koumokuten, who'd rolled her gym shorts up extra high, was one of them. Aguni had a "special spot in her heart" for Tamara, as she was the symbol of all that was wrong with teenage girls today.

"Well, everybody," the drill sergeant decreed, "today we go to the weight room. But first, stretches! Then sit-ups, then pushups, then laps."

This was nothing new, and one of the stupider students looked let down, obviously having been hoping that weight training meant no warm-ups. Fool! Neglecting to warm up was a certain recipe for injury, Aguni thought condescendingly. She'd be damned if she got yelled at by a parent who then threatened to sue.

So after warm-ups, and explaining that one needed to work different muscles, not just one or two, she watched with a kind of glee as even the football players failed to meet her level of strength. Oh, it was _good _to be a divine femme fatale who could bench-press the boys under the table.

After class, one such boy was whining like a little kid. Actually, all of them were, but this one was the whiniest.

"I hate that woman!" the boy, whose name was Johnny, practically wailed. "She's some kind of – of mutant if she doesn't think this is hard!"

"Bitch needs a ass-whuppin'," his friend Milton proclaimed, buckling his belt three sizes too big for that jailing look. "Smack her down, show her her bitch place in the world. Bitches."

Despite living in a gated community, having parents who bought him whatever he wanted, and being named Milton Gunther Finklestein, he was convinced that his soul lay in the 'hood. Specifically the one portrayed in hip-hop videos, where no one was fat or ugly, shawties were cool with being part of a harem, and everyone was a great dancer. Surely that was what the ghetto was really like.

"She's the Devil," Johnny agreed, carefully fixing his hair. "We should get a priest to sprinkle holy water on her and see if she explodes."

Their buddy Wade was silent. An overweight young man who was pleasantly surprised that he could now run around without gasping for breath after ten seconds, he thought Aguni was actually kind of… awesome. No other gym teacher had given him the gift of routine, intense exercise, or explained healthy eating in a way that made sense. He was making life changes, and it was all thanks to her. Indeed, ten years later Wade would be a male model with chiseled abs, an adoring movie star wife, and legions of devoted fans who would follow his inspiring example. But right now he was still a fat kid, one who was beginning to think that Ms. Steel was so beautiful, she would be worth giving up chips and Ho-Hos for.

"_Why Wade," _she'd smile at the end of senior year, _"you've gone from a pudgy boy to a __man__. And I've noticed your devotion to me. Now that you're graduating, why don't you come over to my house for an intense, cardio workout of nympho sex?"_

"Right Wade?"

"_Yeah_," he agreed, staring off into space before his eyes refocused on Johnny.

Johnny, who had just asked if Wade thought Aguni was a bitch who needed to be crushed under a monster truck, nodded in relief and continued, "Tamara thinks her name should be 'Agony,' not 'Aguni.' "

"Maybe it really _is _pronounced 'Agony,' " Milton theorized. After all, they'd only seen it written.

Milton swaggered through his morning, made sure to use ghetto slang whenever he could, and was just pondering what his rap star name should be when he got a text from Tamara. In non-text speech, it said, "Meet me under the gym bleachers. Cindia dared me to [engage in outercourse with] you. Five minutes? Love Tamara."

He hastily put his pizza down, texted her back with an answer in the affirmative, and ran out of the lunchroom, because she was _hot. _Then, inevitably, he tripped on his pants and fell flat on his face.

Unaware of Tamara lurking in the gym, Aguni was happily eating her own lunch in her office. Who cared about socializing with the other faculty? They wanted to talk about spouses, significant others, children, and (gag) gardening. She herself had no man right now, ever since Henry had made a break for it.

She sighed around her bite of apple. What a pathetic little loser; he'd _seemed _good mate material but kept disagreeing with her over the stupidest things, like whether or not the overweight should be mercilessly mocked. The last few dates had been absolutely awful, and –

And then, with that sixth sense all teachers have, she could tell that something was up. Her eyes narrowed as she put the apple down, swung her feet off her desk and onto the floor, and cracked her knuckles because she could. She moved out of the office on the balls of her feet, silent as a cat who was ready to lay down the law if needed, then opened the gym door in huntress mode. She'd heard a tiny sound where there shouldn't have been a tiny sound, because the rest of the school (even the other gym teachers) avoided her domain whenever they could.

Hmmm… nothing in plain sight. But wait, under the bleachers –

She tiptoed over, peered around them for a better look, and gaped for a split second. Then she bellowed, in the time-honored tradition of authority figures worldwide, "_What _do you think you're _doing?!_"

.

As Aguni was hauling Tamara and Milton into her office by their ears, Koumokuten was shaking his new assistant's hand and saying, "Congrats, Percy Rudra, you get the job. You start this minute."

Percy Rudra, a slender young man with very spiky hair, smiled and shook back as he replied, "Wow. I mean, wow. And here I thought this was just going to be an interview!" he said cheerfully, unaware of what horrors awaited him.

"I needed an assistant desperately," Koumokuten told him bluntly. "You're the first one HR sent over, you're competent and I can see what you're thinking, so you're hired. Count yourself lucky you were the first. So, we do things differently in Marketing than in Real Estate. Basically, I tell you what I want, and if you don't do it I fire you."

Rudra blinked in surprise. He'd heard stories, but he'd always thought they were exaggerated.

"And right now," Koumokuten continued as he stood up, "I want you to come with me to meet the rest of my loyal office slaves. After that, I'll give you a crash course on what your duties will be. After _that_, I want you to pick up a cake for my daughter and deliver it to my house."

"That's, um, I mean, I'll be off the clock, sir," Rudra pointed out. "Do I really have to –?"

"Yes you _do_," Koumokuten informed him, very firmly and very annoyed. "That's part of your job, to do what I say. Now, if you have a problem with that I suggest you tell me so right now, so I can fire you and get a new assistant."

"Uh… no sir!" Rudra said quickly, all thoughts of pointing out the unfairness of this situation fleeing before the onslaught of Koumokuten's scary voice.

Said executive smiled, "Good, good. You see, my last assistant had a problem with his duties and let his discontent fester. After a confrontation, I've decided I won't tolerate dissent like that again." He pinned Rudra with a burning gaze and asked, "You're not going to dissent, are you?"

"No sir! I'm sure we'll – I'm sure we'll get on just fine," Rudra said meekly, smiling a sickly little smile as they walked into a conference room.

Oh great, this one was a stutterer. A couple of Koumokuten's other assistants had had that problem too, and funnily enough, none of them had had it during the interview either. Weird.

"We'll get on fine if you do what I tell you to and don't play around, or talk back," he stressed. "My last assistant backtalked me, and he's on another job now. Remember that, Percy. Now," he indicated the man lounging in his chair like he was a model at a photo shoot, "this is Charles, my Ad Manager. Say 'hi' to him."

"Hello, Mr. Charles," Rudra quavered, waving obediently. "Nice to meet you."

"Technically it's 'Mr. Vahyu,' " the Ad Manager sighed languidly, "but you can call me 'Mr. Charles' if you'd like." He flashed Rudra a radiant smile and added, "It's really _cute._"

Rudra gulped; he wasn't stupid. "Uh… 'Mr. Vahyu' it is."

Koumokuten introduced his new henchman to all the other henchmen and henchwomen, and luckily no one else hit on him. And then, as Koumokuten was lambasting Rudra for hiding in the bathroom from Vahyu, his phone rang. He thought about answering it, but he was in full rant and couldn't be bothered. He'd just listen to the message the minute he was done with the lambasting.

"Yes Charles is a freak," he snapped, sitting at his desk like a conquering warlord on a throne, "but he's a brilliant creative mind, so I'm telling you right now that you will be nice to him!"

"But – but sir," Rudra almost whined, "sir, he emailed me a note that ended with a heart and the words 'Sit by me at lunch? You have sexy hair'! I think that's more than a little inappropriate!" he said fervently, spreading his palms in an attempt to make Koumokuten understand.

"Percy," Koumokuten snarled, "suck it up! He won't grope you, because he might be a gaylord but he's not a moron. Tell him to leave you alone and eventually he'll get the hint. Why, Walter completely ignored him and that worked too."

Rudra bit his lip, then weakly protested, "I have a girlfriend, sir. It's disturbing."

"It is," Koumokuten commiserated, "but we all have to make sacrifices for the good of Tenkai Corporation." This was extremely hypocritical, because if Vahyu _ever _hit on Koumokuten, he'd be fired in the time it took him to say, "I'm into men!"

Rudra sighed, nodded, and apologized, which Koumokuten accepted with the dignity that befitted a General of the Boardroom. "You are forgiven, Percy. Don't do it again," he cautioned, waving an index finger.

"No sir."

"Good." Koumokuten then pulled out his phone and ordered, "Now get me another frappuccino, I have a message to listen to." As Rudra beat a hasty retreat, Koumokuten pressed a button to hear a most disturbing thing:

"Mr. Koumokuten? This is Aguni Steel, your daughter Tamara's gym teacher. Don't worry, she's perfectly fine! However, I have the regrettable duty of informing you that she has been, not to put too vulgar a phrase on it, screwing around with a classmate."

As Koumokuten's mouth hung open in horror, the message continued, "One Milton Finklestein, perhaps you know him. I'd like to meet with you and her mother, shall we say tomorrow at four? Please call me back to confirm or reschedule this time. My number is 666-699-6978. Thank you in advance. Have a good day."

He stared at his phone like it had just told him the world was ending. Tamara was – oh God no! No, she was only fourteen! Why, just yesterday she'd been taking her first steps and spitting up onto his best shirt. She was his innocent little girl, the one who used to wear frilly dresses every day and demand actual ponies for her birthday!

So he inhaled, threw his head back, and screamed. "AAAAAAH!"

All around this floor, and on two floors below it, people looked up in confusion. Had some guy just been stabbed with a box cutter?

Koumokuten took a deep, calming breath. Okay. He could handle this awful situation. He'd make _damn _sure to be at that meeting, and to ask his daughter what the hell had happened. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding! Maybe Milton was practicing his wrestling moves on poor starstruck Tamara.

So he called Aguni back, got an answering machine, and informed her that oh yes, he'd be there. He wasn't going to miss such an important thing, because if it _wasn't _a misunderstanding, he had to know what he was dealing with. He was praying that it was, but believe it or not, he was a responsible dad and as such wanted to get this taken care of.

When he returned home that day, he knocked on Tamara's door with the firm rap. Usually he used the gentle tap, but not now, _oh_ no.

"Honey?" he called. "I need to talk to you."

Silence for a moment, then an annoyed, "Come in."

He pushed the door open to encounter Tamara sprawled on her bed on her stomach, clicking off instant-messaging on her pink laptop. Her earbuds were in, her feet were bare, and she was wearing her favorite t-shirt, the one that said "I'm the PRINCESS." Of course it was pink too.

"What do you want, Daddy?" she asked sweetly, having decided to act like she was innocent of all wrongdoing. Maybe he didn't know!

"Honey," Koumokuten began, "I got a call from your gym teacher today. It was, shall we say, disturbing."

"Why?" she asked, using the "big, innocent eyes" approach. She took her earbuds out and sat cross-legged on the bed, even going so far as to fold her hands. It was all calculated for pure cute, well, _purity_, and usually it worked wonders. Hopefully it'd work this time too.

"Tamara," he said levelly, because all the parenting books said you had to swallow your squeamishness and _communicate _with your teenager, "are you… are you…" He wimped out and asked, "Are you going steady with Milton?"

She gave him a wide-eyed look and replied, "Why _no_, Daddy, not at all." _I took him to third base under the bleachers, but he's not my __boyfriend__._

Koumokuten was immensely relieved as he sighed, "Good, sweetie. Because you're too young and innocent to _go steady_ with a boy."

He had a horrible vision of being handed a squalling infant at age forty-seven, the nurse giggling, "Meet your grandpa, Milton Jr.!" Oh God, that would drive him to some sort of violent act, not against the kid but against the baby daddy. And then Tamara would have to go live with her crazy aunt Trixie, Melissa's sister, because her dad would be in prison for that one.

Unaware of all that, Tamara beamed, because he was encouraging her to stay a free spirit! "Oh Daddy, I knew you'd understand. Ms. Steel is a dykey cunt who hates me," she whined, like all of this was Aguni's fault, the bitch.

Koumokuten blinked at hearing that particular profane remark on his little girl's lips, and managed a weak, "Uh, honey? Let's not ever say the 'C' word again when Daddy's around, okay?" he asked rather desperately.

Tamara rolled her eyes. God, her dad was a dork. And to think Stacey's father thought Koumokuten was enviable.

"Okay. Sorry Daddy!" she trilled, with just the perfect mix of "I'm so bad" and "Silly me" in her voice.

Koumokuten smiled, glad that this ordeal was over. Ha, what did all those psychologists and counselors and teachers know? You didn't have to explicitly tell your kid not to have sex after all. Just one more reason that Xavier Koumokuten was better than everybody else, and his daughter was the best daughter in the history of the world.

"When I meet with Ms. Steel tomorrow, I'm sure we'll get it all straightened out," he assured her. "Nothing to worry about, I'm sure."

Mentally, Tamara shrieked and swore a blue streak. Physically, she smiled back and agreed, "I'll bet you will, Daddy. When you see her, you'll understand. She's a whackjob who thinks carrots are better than _candy bars._"

Koumokuten, who kept himself in damn good shape because that was pretty much all he physically had going for him, thought Ms. Steel sounded very smart. He lectured, "Princess, carrots are _good _for you! I love carrots even more than I love broccoli."

_Daddy's hopeless, _Tamara sighed. Koumokuten even liked the bland grossness of celery, what a loony. But he hadn't always been a health nut, not at all. She fondly remembered back when Melissa had been alive, and he'd smuggled in donuts and given her one so she wouldn't tattle.

"Tamara," he'd whispered, glancing around, "your mom wants me to lose weight, so if she sees these she'll go bonkers. Here, I got you a chocolate sprinkle one."

But no longer. As "Taps" played in her head for junk food now gone, Koumokuten was suggesting, "Maybe you should give her an apple, Tamara. As a gesture of goodwill."

_If I give that woman an apple it'll have a razor blade in it, _she thought sullenly.

She decided, as they ate dinner, that the only way out of this one was to act like she'd done nothing wrong. She'd loudly protest that Aguni was lying through her teeth, and hey, Koumokuten would probably believe Tamara. So she'd go to the mall tomorrow, and then put her plan into action when he next talked to her. The thing to do was act totally normal, and maybe… maybe he would tell Ms. Agony Steel that she was a liar, and Tamara was innocent!

Or maybe her dad would terrify that horror, and Aguni wouldn't say a word against his beloved daughter. After all, Koumokuten intimidated everybody. Except for his scary-as-hell boss Mr. Taishakuten, but nothing in the world could intimidate that man.

.

At five to four the next day, Wade dropped his half-eaten carrot stick in shock at the car that had just pulled up in front of the school. It gave new meaning to the term "wicked." It was a sleek black two-seater, long and low, with super-tinted windows and a license plate that said "KOUMKTN." The headlights looked like narrowed demon eyes, and the silver hood ornament was some sort of snake thing.

And the rims… oh my. They were chrome, with scimitar-esque spokes that made the rims resemble some sort of ninja stars. Wade stared in car-fanboy awe at this machine, because it was extravagant even by Rosehedge Academy's standards, where if the parents drove a mere Mustang, they were shunned as peasants.

The driver got out, and Wade blinked in surprise. This guy was scarier than his car.

"You. Kid," the guy said, locking the gorgeous thing by remote. "Where's Ms. Steel's office?"

Aha, Wade could be helpful here! "Up two flights of stairs, to the right, the door across from the gym," he answered, and was unable to help adding, "Your car is awesome. What kind is it?"

The guy grinned, "It is, isn't it? It's a Mitsubishi Hellspawn, Limited Edition. Last I checked, there were only a hundred in existence. Naturally I had to have one, and I got one of the last cars in stock. And let me tell you, it handles like a dream, and can go zero to eighty in like three seconds."

Wade wanted to plead, "Can I touch it?" but the man was already opening the door and going inside. So instead Wade set down his carrot sticks and pulled out his phone. He'd just take pictures from every angle, and drool over them with his friends.

Koumokuten mounted two flights of stairs, turned to the right, moved down the hallway, and stopped in front of the door opposite the gym. He knocked with the "Fear me peon" knock, and it echoed in the halls for that perfect effect.

_Hell yeah._

"Come in!" a non-fearful woman's voice called, and he was a little disappointed. Still, he opened the door and strolled on in.

Aguni studied Tamara's father, and realized that that girl obviously resembled her mother's side of the family. He looked, not to put to fine a point on it, mean. His eyes were pinpoints of black with rather creepy lower lashes, his nose was sharp, his cheeks were hollow, and he apparently thought he was still a youngster because he had a triangular soul stripe, a ponytail, and stud earrings. He was wearing all black, and she somehow had the sense that he did that all the time.

"Mr. Koumokuten?" she tried to confirm. Perhaps this was actually a slasher off the street, in which case she would kick his head off. She continued, "I don't see your wife with you."

"Tamara's mother died four years ago," he informed her. "She slipped on soapy dishwater in our kitchen and bashed her head against the counter. And yes, I'm Xavier Koumokuten."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Well," the gym teacher said, getting down to business, "I'm Aguni Steel, Mr. Koumokuten. Nice to meet you."

"And nice to meet _you_," he smiled, shaking her hand. He meant it. He'd been expecting some sort of androgyne with zero social skills and a mustache, but instead he'd gotten a babe: tall, blond, dark-skinned with exotic orange eyes and glossy red lips. She was probably a lesbian anyway, he sighed in his head, but _damn._

"Mr. Koumokuten," Aguni began, "first let me say that although I have no children myself, I'm well aware of how difficult it is to raise them. I spend an awful lot of time trying to correct mistakes made by parents who just don't care: lying, slacking off, girls thinking their role in life is to be sexpots for the sole benefit of the masculine half of humanity. That last one wounds me deeply. Our sisters in the seventies didn't expend all that time and effort just so eight-year-olds could objectify themselves, date at age ten, and get pregnant by age twelve."

"So true," he replied fervently. "I think eighteen is the time to start dating. Good God, I see eleven-year-olds on the street wearing halter tops and Daisy Dukes! Sickening, don't you agree?"

He was, of course, A-okay with eighteen-and-over females wearing skimpy clothes, provided they weren't Tamara. He'd practically cried when she came home with a training bra years ago. Such was the life of a doting father who'd left "The Talk" up to Minnie and had vowed that anything sexual would be kept far, far away from his innocent offspring.

"It is sickening," Aguni smiled, relieved that Tamara's dad wasn't one of those parents who made you wonder if they were their kids' BFFs, not mom or dad. That little tart probably lied to her poor father. Aguni elaborated, "Goodness knows, I'm all for exploring one's basic human urges, but at the right time and in a safe manner after one's been educated on the good and the bad aspects of it."

"Ms. Steel, you are so right I can't believe it," Koumokuten told her. "Where were you when Tamara had her crush on the neighbor boy?" The clueless neighbor boy had been sixteen to Tamara's nine, and had narrowly escaped a gruesome punishment when Koumokuten got wind of his daughter's infatuation.

Aguni smiled, "Oh, I was probably out taking kickboxing classes so no meatheads could hit on me without consequence. We women need to show the world our power!"

He nodded in impressed agreement and proclaimed, "Ms. Steel, I must say as both a Marketing executive and a normal human being: you are something else." He made a frame with his hands, squinting one eye shut, and continued, "I look at you and I think two words."

She waited for the inevitable "psycho bitch," but instead she got, " 'Warrior woman.' You're the total package, Ms. Steel. Have you ever thought about becoming a spokeswoman for a feminist organization?"

She was suddenly more flattered than she'd ever been in her entire life, and practically giggled, "Why no, Mr. Koumokuten, I haven't." It was true, never judge a book by its cover!

He gave her an encouraging smile and told her, "You could rake in the cash. Why, you could be the next Gloria Steinem –" _with a figure lesser females would kill for, _"– or Hillary Clinton." _But younger and with sexier hair._

Aguni gave him a roguish grin in return, and teased, "Just as long as I'm not… Margaret Thatcher!"

They both guffawed at that one, and a passing janitor cocked his head in confusion. Usually parent-teacher meetings with Aguni ended in blubbering, invariably on the parent's part.

"Ha-ha-ha-HAA!"

"BWA-HA-HA-HA!"

The janitor cringed. What was this, auditions for the next Bond nemesis?

"Anyway, Ms. Steel," Koumokuten chuckled, calming down, "Tamara gave me her word that she never fooled around with Milton. Is it possible you were mistaken? I mean, maybe she tripped and fell on top of him," he suggested, honestly believing that could very well be the case.

Aguni gave him an odd look and asked, "Is that what she told you? Mr. Koumokuten, her mouth was –"

"Oh my GAWD," he blurted, feeling sick to his stomach. "Was it really?"

She nodded almost happily and confirmed, "Yes indeed, Mr. Koumokuten. All the way to third base, rounding it and no doubt headed for home," she chatted, putting her feet on the desk. "Your daughter is quite the wild child. Very popular with the boys."

His face darkened like a thundercloud as he growled, "She told me she's never had sex! When I get home, I'm making her go to bed with no dinner _and _no dessert," he vowed.

"I think a much harsher punishment than _that _is called for," Aguni suggested, fiddling with her lariat. "A grounding, a moratorium on cellphone use, maybe a suspension of computer privileges?"

"A complete and total ban on boys," he said firmly. "She can't even see one for an entire year."

She reached out and knocked (gently) on his head, reminding him, "This is a coed school. That's impossible. Try the grounding and a lecture instead."

Koumokuten was rather impressed. No one else had the nerve to knock him (gently) on the head. Well, Melissa had banged on it sometimes, but he'd paid her back and then some, oh yes he had.

"Hmm. Maybe I'll take away her phone, put a password on her computer, and revoke mall privileges. Not to mention monitor her social life very, very closely," he decided. "It had to have been an outside influence, as I've made it very clear sex is for marriage."

It was Aguni's turn to smile an encouraging smile, and urge, "I think those are very good ideas, Mr. Koumokuten. The youth today face a host of rapacious forces waiting to tear them apart, such as derogatory messages in their music, drugs, free access to porn, and all those video games that turn them into couch potatoes." She made the last one sound the worst.

Ah, she was speaking Koumokuten's language. "It's up to us," he said grandly, "to negate those enemy hordes and pulverize them into submission. Ms. Steel, thanks so much for letting me know what Tamara's up to when I'm not watching."

Aguni smiled even wider, if that were possible. Finally, someone who didn't object to her metaphors and use of the term "rapacious" in a school setting. She liked this guy, she liked him quite a bit.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Koumokuten," she replied graciously. "I'm sure Tamara will think twice about putting out once you've finished with her."

They shook hands again, grinning rather evilly. Aguni would not want to be Tamara when her dad next saw her, not at all. She hoped the little brat would whine, and Koumokuten would beat her back into line with punishments galore. That would teach her to be a sexpot for the sole benefit of the masculine half of humanity.

"All teachers should be like you," Koumokuten enthused, standing up to leave. "Why, her English teacher thinks I'm too controlling."

Aguni made a "Pssh" noise of disbelief, and told him, "Mrs. Butterkin is one of those pushovers who thinks the little darlings' souls are being stifled by basic parental precautions. I shouldn't be telling you this, but I think she needs a stint in a boot camp for that."

"One with live ammo obstacle courses," he agreed wholeheartedly. "Well, thanks again. Have a great day, Ms. Steel."

With Aguni's cheery, "You too, Mr. Koumokuten!" ringing in the air behind him, the Marketing overlord sailed out to his car, making a group of JV cheerleaders squeak in fear as he passed. Tamara was in trouble. _Big _trouble, and not just for the sex thing.

_She can't get away with lying to me like that, _he thought as he buckled his seatbelt. _First it's a blowjob under the bleachers, then it's running away from home to become a stripper, then before I know it she's a crack-addicted teen prostitute/mother with a forty-year-old boyfriend named "Weasel." _

Conveniently forgetting his own adolescent adventure with his best friend's sister, Koumokuten vowed to stop this train while it could still be stopped. _He'd_ never been so wild! _He'd_ never blown a classmate in a public setting! (The first one was completely incorrect, the second one was Gospel true.)

And so, that evening, when Tamara entered the living room with five bags of expensive clothes, Koumokuten was waiting for her. With a glare, steepled fingers, and narrowed eyes. Her dad had the dubious talent of looking like a cross between Dracula and Emperor Palpatine while wearing a tie and Italian loafers, she thought as she gulped. It was the way he lurked in the shadows, she decided nervously.

She tried the "stupid" act, with a peppy, "Hi Daddy! Do you want to see the super-cute purse I –"

"No."

Uh-oh, scary voice! She thought desperately what act to use next. The "I love you, Daddy, you're the best father ever" approach? The "I have a headache, I'll talk to you tomorrow" approach? Or the distraction one? Or the "I'm sad" one? Or the –

"Tamara." Oh _no _,it was "Master and Commander" time. "I've figured out that not only did you _indeed_ fool around with Milton, but you lied to me," Koumokuten intoned, his pupils tiny pinpricks of rage. "Explain yourself."

Tamara's bags fell out of her hands, and she didn't even notice. "Well, um… he made me do it!" she said quickly, throwing Milton to the wolves. In fact, Milton had done nothing of the sort, although of course he hadn't said "no."

Koumokuten's brows lowered even more as he replied, "If he truly did, I will hunt him down and make sure he's never able to do so again. That's a very serious accusation, which could result in jail time for your friend. So tell me honestly, Tamara… did he?"

He was using _the_ stare, the one that made you want to check for burn holes. He hadn't used it on her since she was six and broke his favorite award, then tried to say a burglar did it. It was unnerving, and for a moment she considered perjury, and insisting that Milton had assaulted her. But all her friends would testify in court that he hadn't, and that bitch Steel would simply give the world a detailed account of what she'd seen and heard. And then Tamara's dad would never trust her again, plus she'd probably be slapped with a giant fine.

So she did the right thing: "Um… no, Daddy. I was, um, lying about that," she admitted, looking down at the floor.

Koumokuten nodded slowly and murmured, "Good. But Tamara, now you've not only engaged in underage sexual activities and lied to me earlier, but you just lied again and tried to have Milton take the fall, which would have resulted in a permanent citation on his record. That's not okay, Tamara."

His voice was getting louder, even as he stayed still like some sort of vulture perched on designer furniture, snapping, "Clearly I've given you too much freedom. Clearly you've taken advantage of my trusting nature. Clearly you're becoming _that _girl, the one who manipulates and puts out for anyone and pulls the wool over her stupidly naïve parents' eyes!"

Now he was yelling, and still motionless save for his face as he told her, "So tomorrow, you have an appointment with a gynecologist to check for STDs! I am _very _disappointed in you! So I'm taking away your phone, I've put a password on your computer, and if you _ever _do anything like this again, I'm cutting off your allowance and sending you to a therapist!"

Tamara's eyes widened in horror. Not the allowance! She needed that money! The phone and computer and doctor were bad enough, but what kind of monster would take away a girl's only flow of cash, when the Halloween dance was coming up and she needed a new dress?!

He uncurled from the chair and loomed over her, holding out a hand and demanding, "Phone. Now!" he thundered, in uncanny imitation of James Earl Jones.

She found herself nodding mutely and passing it over, shaking like a leaf. He was _pissed._

She rallied a tiny party of resistance against the battalion that was Koumokuten in Parent Mode, pleading, "Daddy, it's not like I'm the only one who does it! _Everybody _fools around these days! But I promise not to do it again if you'll unlock my computer," she wheedled, waving a little white flag of compromise.

The occupying general demanded unconditional surrender, with an unimpressed, "Uh-uh. You won't do it again, but that password stays _on. _And this phone will be locked up. It's called 'punishment,' Tamara. Now go to your room."

She tried to resist, she really did, but he was practically hypnotic in Parent Mode. She turned like a puppet on a string, leaving her bags behind, and ran up the stairs to escape. She locked her door, sweating, then flopped down on her bed. Okay, so she'd never try _that _again…

Down in the living room, Koumokuten grinned proudly. Ha, he'd shown her. Power was awesome, and now he almost wished she'd argued so he could have wielded it some more. With visions of himself striking a conquering pose over a pile of corpses labeled "Disobedience," he strolled into the study, opened the safe, and stuck his daughter's phone inside while humming a triumphant little tune.

Then he smacked his forehead, reopened the safe, and turned the phone off, then spun the lock. Couldn't have that thing ringing incessantly, after all.

.

The very next weekend, Koumokuten put the kickstand down on his expensive mountain bike and took off his helmet, taking in the many colors of autumn on the Gateway to the West bike trail. Soon the trees would be bare and everything would be brown and dead-looking, but for now, the forest looked like it was on fire. He had a lovely little fantasy of the forest actually on fire, as he laughed his best bad guy laugh from the deck of a chopper: _"Ha, fear me, Nature! That'll take care of your buckthorn problem!"_

He sipped some water from his water bottle, looking around. Squirrels were running around with nuts, birds were flying south, some woman was climbing a tree – Whoa, some woman was climbing a tree. What kind of weirdo climbed a tree after age thirteen?

He noticed a bike even more hardcore than his leaned against said tree, and a helmet with a flaming rose on it hanging off the handlebars. The bike itself was metallic red, with little gold fireballs on the body. And it looked like it was ridden hard, judging by the mud splashed everywhere. And the bits of grass too. And, on the front wheel, what might have been the pulverized remains of a field mouse.

He studied Tree Woman. Was this some sort of environmental protest? Would she chain herself to the branches and sing "We Shall Not Be Moved"? Or was she insane, and reliving her childhood wearing bike shorts, bike gloves, and elbow pads?

She was blond, he could tell that much. Long hair, hanging down to her lower back, and dark-skinned. And fit, with a great – well, never mind that now. So he moved closer, purely to see if she were in need of any help. Really.

"Hey! You okay up there?" he called, shielding his face from the rain of bark and twigs she was dislodging as she scrambled ever higher. She swung herself onto a branch and peered down at him, replying, "Yes, I'm completely… Mr. Koumokuten?"

He blinked up at her and asked, "Ms. Steel?"

Aguni beamed, perched on a branch like a lioness wearing a "Pain Is Weakness Leaving The Body" shirt, and cheerfully greeted, "Fancy meeting you here! Do you come here often? Isn't it just a great trail, definitely not for wimps?"

Koumokuten nodded, reading her shirt. Really. "Yeah, I live pretty close. I see you love biking," he told her, making conversation with the tools he had at hand.

"I do," she enthused, dangling a foot off the branch. "Biking works the quads like nothing else! And it's so beautiful out now. That's why I'm in the tree, you see. To get a panoramic view at the top."

Koumokuten thought that made much more sense than his earlier attempts at a reason, and smiled, "That's great. I bet you can see for miles, huh?" he asked politely.

"Yes." She thought for a moment, and then suggested, "Why don't you come on up too? Climbing trees is good exercise, and it'll work muscles not used in biking. You look like you know all about keeping in shape," she complimented, beaming down at him.

He attempted a nonchalant shrug and a modest, "Oh, you know, you hit forty and you either step it up or turn into a blob. If you think _I'm_ in good shape you should see a friend of mine. He's older than I am and could probably lift a conference table and hurl it out the window."

Aguni was uninterested in Zouchouten. After all, Zouchouten wasn't standing right in front of her wearing bike shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt. She adored strong, muscular men, and while this one didn't have the handsome face she so often went for, at least he had a nice body.

"C'mon, I'll help you up," she cajoled. "Most of us quit climbing trees when we're kids, but it should come back to you! Like riding a bike or driving a car, you never really forget the basics."

Koumokuten decided that what the hell, it might be fun, and agreed, "Okay. Um, will the branches on top really hold me, though?"

Aguni nodded, "Yes, this is an old oak, very sturdy. And we won't go all the way to the top. You'll be amazed at how beautiful the woods look from on high, just like they're on, well –"

They said it together, grinning: "Fire."

And so Xavier Koumokuten, voted "Most Likely to Start a Third World War" in high school and "Marketing Executive of the Decade" by "Forbes," scrambled up an oak tree with his daughter's gym teacher. As Tamara sulked and tried to hack her computer, Aguni and Koumokuten admired the lovely forest-that-looks-like-it's-on-fire. And once they'd come back to earth, he made a decision that would have far-reaching effects.

"Ms. Steel, I know this great little coffeeshop that has the best cider in town. Want to join me?" he offered, a coaxing tone in his voice.

She lit up, because cider was a lovely drink and she could afford some excess sugars anyway. She grinned, "Well sure. And you can call me Aguni. 'Ms. Steel' sounds so formal, and we're not in school now, after all."

"And I'm Xavier," he smiled, getting onto his bike. "It's not far, just about five miles from the park entrance. I go there all the time, they know me by name."

This was, in a way, true. The staff did know Koumokuten's first name, but mostly they referred to him as, "That creepy guy with the scary eyes. You know, the one who never tips and demands 'warm but not hot' cider."

Indeed, the barista on duty paled ever so slightly at the sight of smirking Koumokuten accompanied by a woman who looked just as scary as he did. Double trouble, he could tell that already. Why oh _why _had he switched with Barry to have this shift? If he hadn't, he would have worked tomorrow and not today.

"Er, hi there, Cree– Xavier," he greeted nervously. "Your, um, your usual?"

Koumokuten nodded imperiously at the peon and ordered, "Two, actually." He turned to Aguni, who was starting to protest that she'd buy her own cider, and cut her off with, "No no, Aguni, it's on me. In thanks."

She acquiesced gracefully, and Bob the Barista had a horrible premonition of these awful people holding hands and cooing in front of the smoking wreckage of a museum. Or other important public building.

"Ma'am, do you want your cider hot or cold?" he asked meekly.

Aguni imitated her companion's imperiousness and commanded, "Cold. In fact, I want ice."

Bob nodded, mentally muttering that he really shouldn't even bother asking, because it wasn't like Creepy Guy would tip anyway. Bob could have handed Koumokuten his cider in a bejeweled golden cup and he wouldn't see an extra penny. Sigh.

Koumokuten and Aguni spent a lovely half-hour talking about all that was wrong with the world, and how if they were in charge things would be whipped into shape. As the minutes ticked by, she started to realize a couple things. The first was that Koumokuten was a violent, arrogant, cutthroat bastard… and the second was that, partially because of this, she liked him a lot. _Really _a lot. "Where have you been all my life?" a lot.

As he listed the many faults of Habitat for Humanity, she thought about that. Now, this was a student's dad, a student who was whiny and petty and thought she was exempt from the rules. That really was a big red flag. Maybe she should try to resist this attraction, or it might lead to trouble.

On the other hand…

A vision of her mother popped into her mind, burbling, _"Aguni honey, you remember Winston Cummings? From sixth grade? He asked about you the other day, and I said you'd have dinner with him. You know, he's such a nice man, and his acne's loads better now. And dear, get this: he's a teacher too. Kindergarten, and the kiddos just adore him! And I think he volunteers at the homeless shelter on the weekends –"_

"…And the shiftless lower classes," Koumokuten was saying, "make me sick. Sitting around getting fat and holding out their hands to the government, like it was set up to help the masses. I swear, if we could throw all the welfare queens and ghetto hoodlums into a meat grinder, we'd be so much better off."

Reba tried, _"Aguni? Aguni, Winston really likes you. He's a very sweet man! Aguni? Aguni! You are __not__ to get involved with this psychopath! Never mind that those bike shorts –"_

Aguni made Mother Conscience take a jog, in combat gear. With no water. The last point was a compelling push in the right direction, in addition to such deeply held convictions and the guts to say such a controversial thing aloud.

"Xavier, that's so _true_," she agreed. "They should pull themselves up by their bootstraps. All they do is drain society's resources and never give a thing back!"

Koumokuten nodded happily and replied, "Yeah. A hard day's work never hurt anybody."

He looked down at his empty cider cup, and faced a dilemma. He'd finished it long ago, and she'd just finished hers, and if he tried to make her stay she might think he was hitting on her. As most women tried to get away from him as soon as possible, he was really rather loath to relinquish this one's company. Aha, he could order something else!

"Aguni, I'm still thirsty," he informed her, smiling. "I need some coffee. Would you like some too?"

She hastily nodded as well, replying, "Thank you, that would be lovely. I'd like a… a caramel macchiato. That's my favorite."

Unaware that his business life was taking a turn towards something that would forever frustrate an upcoming assistant, Koumokuten decided to throw caution to the winds and try something new. Vanilla frappuccinos were good and all, but she seemed convinced that the other way was good as well.

He agreed, "That sounds great. I'll have one too." He stood up, strolled to the counter, and demanded Bob make two caramel macchiatos, "One iced, one warm, but not hot. I don't want the roof of my mouth burned."

Bob, who had been unable to help hearing the conversation about the evils of charity and compassion, briefly considered giving Koumokuten scalding hot coffee as an act of justice. However, he had the distinct sense Mr. Motherfucker would dump it over his head and yell, "I'll sue you for that!"

So he made the coffee to order, expected no tip or thanks, and was not disappointed. He sighed as Aguni beamed and took her macchiato, like it was tribute to an Amazon queen. Oh well, maybe that museum would collapse on these nutjobs while they were all googly-eyed.

Finally, a further hour having passed, Aguni stood up reluctantly and sighed, "I have to be going, Xavier. I need to mow my lawn before it rains later."

Koumokuten, who had been marveling at the wonder that was a caramel macchiato, felt rather let down. Well, he told himself, she'd probably been waiting for an excuse to leave, and was too polite to just walk out on him. (As Aguni had once walked out on a man who'd bought her roses, chocolates, and a fabulous dinner, this was laughable.)

And then…

"Xavier, I had a wonderful time," she smiled, patting his shoulder. "Let's do it again next weekend."

A blinding vision arose in his mind's eye: the two of them biking down a trail, crushing caterpillars and beetles under their wheels, beaming and having a grand old time before being _forced _to sit at a tiny table here because all the other ones were taken. And what a _shame_, their legs would bump and they'd have to stare into each other's eyes. And then he could say something like, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. So _exotic_."

He blinked, rather stunned. Wow, this was unexpected. Okay yeah, she was hot and fun, but she was… twenty-something? Early thirties? And his daughter's gym teacher who Tamara hated.

A tiny, withered husk of What Would People Think? pointed out that this was a bad, _bad _path to go down. Business executives who went gaga over younger women tended to be firmly inside a midlife crisis, and invariably ended up embroiled in a paternity suit, a sexual harassment suit, or so out of it they made mistakes and got themselves fired. But Koumokuten was a risk-taker, one who usually figured, "I want it, I should get it, get out of my way so I can take it." And truly, what was the harm in a bike ride with a woman who thought like he did about so many things? Maybe they'd just be friends, and he could admire her physique surreptitiously.

So he grinned and proclaimed, "I'd love that, Aguni. How does three o'clock by that tree sound?"

.

The next weekend, Tamara peered over her "TeenStyle" magazine as her dad hummed some weird '80s song ("Hot-Blooded" by Foreigner) and fixed his ponytail, wearing black bike pants, a black bike shirt, and tiny hoop earrings instead of the usual studs.

"Daddy," she pouted, "stop humming! I'm trying to read."

Koumokuten rolled his eyes and turned, pointing out, "Now Tamara, when you sing that… that Ke$ha song about the clock I let you do it. Now, I'm going for my bike ride. Stay out of trouble – in fact, do your homework. I'll be back in a couple hours."

She gave him in incredulous look, and pointed to the window. "In _that?_" she asked, in appalled tones.

Rain lashed the windowpanes, and muted, far-off thunder rumbled in the background. It was most definitely not optimal weather for going for a bike ride, not at all. He might even get electrocuted!

But he nodded firmly, undeterred by a mere thunderstorm, and answered, "Yes honey, in that. I won't let a little water from the sky cheat me of my exercise! I'll have my phone in the waterproof bag, so I'll be just fine."

Tamara considered this. Something was amiss.

She pointed out, "Daddy, you complained when we had to walk through the rain on the way to the car two weeks ago. Remember? After the doctor's appointment."

"Tamara," Koumokuten sighed, like his daughter was a suspicious little ninny, "I was wearing my best work pants then. Now I'm wearing exercise clothes, so it's A-okay. Now put down that schlock and do your math homework."

She obeyed, waved goodbye… and put down the math homework and went right back to "TeenStyle." As she checked off her answers for a "Which heartthrob is right for _you?_" quiz, she pondered her father's sudden odd behavior. Either all that celery had gone to his brain, or there was something he wasn't telling her. Although celery _was _the Devil, she was pretty sure that wasn't entirely it. Was he meeting someone?

Hmm, that might be it. Maybe it was an old friend. Maybe it was Zouchouten, who liked to take long hikes and say things like, "Look at that waterfall, Tamara! Aren't you glad we trekked six whole miles to watch water go over rocks?" (Well, he didn't say it exactly like that, but that was how she took it.)

Yeah, maybe that tree-hugging loser had convinced Koumokuten to come with him to watch the salamanders spawn, and Koumokuten was smart enough to realize that his daughter would think he was a loser too if he told her about it. Maybe Zouchouten was even now grinning up at the sky and saying, "Ah, rain… you think you can defeat my Ranger Rick enthusiasm for nature? Guess again, rain, guess again."

At that very moment, however, Zouchouten was comfortably ensconced on his couch wearing fluffy slippers and composing a love letter to his assistant, trying to think up a good following line to "And when you smile at me, I see the azure of the heavens in your eyes, drawing me on to nirvana." Note the complete lack of hiking boots and salamanders, which do not breed in the fall.

When Koumokuten came back four hours later, soaked to the bone and with a dorky expression on his face, Tamara had made sure to pull her math homework out again. Camouflage, that was the key. She waved and chirped, "Hi Daddy! Did you have _fun?_"

She expected a groan of "Sweetie, that man is a hippie who belongs in a Sierra Club commune. I never want to see a salamander again." Instead, she got a blinding smile and a chuckled, "Why yes I _did_, honey. Lots of fun."

He mentally elaborated, _Wet Spandex on a babe is always fun, especially if said babe is checking you out too, and laughing at all your jokes._

Tamara, poor unsuspecting Tamara, decided that her father was turning into a Zouchouten-clone, one who would drag her out to watch the mosquitoes swarm next summer. Oh dear.

.

The next morning found Koumokuten back at work, and Rudra holding out his Starbucks like a bribe to stop a conquering horde.

"Mr. Koumokuten, here's your coffee. I've also – I've also faxed that new proposal to Mr. Taishakuten, and I put your best suit in your car, like you told me to? You know, the one you had me get dry-cleaned on Friday? I'm on top of it, sir," Rudra meekly assured his boss.

Koumokuten just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with Rudra's dutiful actions. Surely _all _executive assistants did the same thing. Why did this fool keep smiling like he was waiting for praise?

"And," Rudra said proudly, "I've worked out an arrangement with Starbucks that for a whole year, they'll have your vanilla frappuccinos ready and waiting to be picked up, at a lower total price."

Koumokuten just shrugged, "That's too bad, because now I've decided I want caramel macchiatos." No more vanilla frappuccinos for him, because caramel macchiatos were where it was at. Not to mention that they reminded him of all the fun he'd had with Aguni.

Rudra gaped, then protested, "But… but Mr. Koumokuten sir, I paid for them already and signed a legally-binding contra–"

"That's your own fault," Koumokuten informed him. "Percy, I want my macchiatos, and if I don't get them I'll be very upset." He handed the coffee back to Rudra, ordering, "Now go and get me one."

Rudra stared at the coffee, stared at Koumokuten, stared into space… and suddenly hurled the frappuccino at the wall as hard as he could. Heads all over the room looked up in interest as it hit the wall, because it looked like the Marketing VP was about to lose another assistant.

"Get your OWN caramel macchiatos!" the assistant screamed, as Vahyu dropped his phone at the sudden spray of liquid feathering onto his face.

"You have the most ridiculous, conceited, idiotic demands EVER!" Rudra ranted, waving his arms around. "'Pick up my dry-cleaning, Percy!' 'Mow my lawn, Percy!' 'Plant that tack on Aaron's chair, Percy!' And how could I forget 'Drive my bratty daughter to the mall, Percy!' Well no more!

"I quit!" he shrieked, shaking a hysterical index finger in Koumokuten's face. "I was never cut out to be an office slave anyway! I'm going into modern art, and my opus will be entitled 'Bastard Boss from the Infernal Realms'! Mr. Koumokuten, fuck you!"

The entire room gaped at this unexpected drama, riveted. Vahyu wiped the side of his face and pushed back a lock of coffee-dewed hair to get a better view of the action. Dear lord… and he'd thought Deva's blowup had been entertaining! It would be hard to top this one. All Deva had done was smack his boss upside the head with a notebook, but Rudra was raging and swearing, vowing to get revenge through modern art, after hurling the guy's coffee too.

Rudra was now breathing hard, looking both crazed and incredibly relieved, and Koumokuten was staring at him like he was faced with a mental patient off his meds. Finally he spoke, with a harsh, "Percy, if you want to throw away your life on performance art –"

"_Modern _art, you Philistine of a slavedriver!"

"– Be that way," Koumokuten continued, not even acknowledging the interruption. "You can clean out your desk right now and give up the best job you'll ever land, you incompetent lackey."

Rudra nodded quickly and replied, "Bye, fucker. Have fun burning in Hell!" With that, he practically capered over to his desk, whistling "Fly Like an Eagle."

Clearly, here was a man who'd been holding back a lot of vitriol, Vahyu thought clinically. With Koumokuten suddenly powerless over him (even a scathing review on a resúmé call would have little effect on a modern artist), Rudra was giddy with joy. He probably would do a little happy dance while waiting for the elevator.

Koumokuten gave him a poisonous glare and snarled, "Bye, Percy. Have fun starving on the street, you avant-garde idiot."

He stalked into his office, slammed the door, and immediately called HR. He snapped, "Caroline? This is Xavier from Marketing. I need a new assistant, ASAP…"

.

As Koumokuten was demanding another office slave, Aguni was perched on the gym bleachers, having instructed the worms – er, _students – _to engage in a horrible activity that should have been banned by the Geneva Convention: aerobics. Not the goofy Richard Simmons kind, either. This particular DVD featured a trainer called "Mad Dog Matilda," and was often used in gyms where the women had worked off all feminine fat curves. Aguni followed that DVD at home all the time, and managed to retain the curves that Koumokuten had so appreciated yesterday, if his staring had been any indication. Sometimes life was truly unfair, that such a woman could still be a D-cup.

She smiled at the rafters, completely unaware that Cindia was about to collapse. Why, she'd been afraid Koumokuten wouldn't show up that rainy day, but how wrong she'd been. He'd been there _early_, wringing water out of that sexy, bad-boy ponytail under the oak.

She was in the infatuation stage, when the recipient of your affections could do no wrong and was the best individual the world had ever known. To think she'd wasted her time with cookie-cutter, blandly good-looking hunks who thought soup kitchens were a good thing. She hugged her knees, still smiling at the ceiling. Who needed Winston? She had Koumokuten, who had gallantly paid for all _three_ of her drinks this time too.

"Ms. Steel?" a student whined, holding up a hand. "Ms. Steel, I'm about to throw up…"

Aguni blinked at this audacity. Couldn't these weaklings see she was thinking?! "You may sit down and put your head between your knees, Tamara. Then have some water," she decreed.

The student gave her a weird look, telling her, "I'm _Matthew_, Ms. Steel."

A quickly-stifled snigger floated in the air as she blinked again and muttered, "Oh. Yes. Matthew. Well, same thing."

As Matthew took deep, calming, much-needed breaths, Aguni returned to her contemplation of the rafters, forgetting everyone else with ease. Koumokuten was so much more interesting, and she had the sense _he _could have kept up with the DVD. And he'd asked her to dinner! What should she wear?

_The orange dress with the sequins? The orange dress with the wrap skirt? Or maybe the orange dress with the built-in bustier?_

She owned very few "va-va-voom" dresses that weren't orange. One was black, because no woman's wardrobe was complete without the little black dress. Then there was… the red one. The red one was a dream in silk, clingy and low-cut, fitting like a glove and used only once before, back when she'd had to show up her sister. Who cared if it had been Pam's engagement celebration? Pam was always getting all the attention anyway.

_She's a physicist, so what? I'm the pretty one._

But the red dress was a weapon that must be used sparingly, she cautioned herself. It was too soon. Hopefully someday, but not now. So, the black dress! Koumokuten loved black, and he'd match it too. Yes, they'd be the perfect, well-dressed couple at Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette, and then –

"Ms. Steel? Ms. Steel, the DVD's skipping."

Aguni glared at Wade, who was being glared at by everyone else too, and snapped, "Fine. I'll take it out and clean it." Stupid fat child… next week they'd do long-distance running just to punish him, she decided.

Wade smiled hopefully and went on, "I wanted to tell you earlier, but Tyler threatened to beat me up."

Tyler, a quarterback who was so dumb he was in remedial-remedial English (but he could throw a ball, so he got a scholarship), paled and gulped. "No! No, I didn't!" he pleaded, being completely untruthful.

Aguni leveled a glare at the scum beneath her boot, and barked, "Tyler! We do not threaten fellow students!"

So she cleaned the DVD, made sure Matthew was all right, and gave Tyler detention, all on autopilot. She smiled at Tamara, who shrank back a bit in fear. She watched all the little whiners trudge off to change back into their uniforms when it was time, and wondered what jewelry to wear.

_To think, I almost said "yes" to that Winston date._

.

Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette was enjoyable, and yes, Koumokuten had been wearing black too. And he'd made the waitress tear up, no mean feat in a fancy French restaurant, and even gotten the manager out to apologize. Oh, this was one for the books, he'd thought proudly. And Aguni had been impressed by his scathing comments and obstinate nastiness! Why, _Melissa_ had hidden her face behind the menu. But this one had egged him on, and complimented his strength of character in being so mean.

And next week's Italian restaurant date, he grinned to himself, would be just as enjoyable. Maybe later he could help Aguni into her car, or something equally dashing, like… like… hmm. What did dashing studs do? So he consulted an expert at one of the morning briefings.

"Hey Reginald, you're suave and debonair. When you and your wife go out, what do you do?" he asked, as casually as he could so nobody would make fun of his lack of social skills.

Bishamonten deadpanned, "Eat."

Koumokuten frowned at such an unhelpful attitude, grumbling, "Besides eat, and pay ridiculous fees."

Bishamonten put down his coffee and folded his hands on the conference table, looking rather annoyed, and answered, "My wife and I discuss important issues and soak in the ambience. If we're feeling _really _wild," he said sarcastically, "we agonize over whether we should have dessert or not."

As Zouchouten studied Koumokuten intently, the head of Marketing folded his hands as well. "Yes, I'm sure you do. Sounds _thrilling_, and I can see why she fell in love with you," he replied, equally sarcastically. "My God man, help me out here, I have a –"

"Gentlemen, I have arrived," Taishakuten informed the world, swooping into the conference room. "Enough idle chitchat."

Once the meeting was over, Bishamonten strolled off to make some calls, leaving Koumokuten high and dry from the waters of dashing romance. He gathered his things into his briefcase, glowering at the table. That redheaded prick… he had those eyelashes women went nuts for, and that whole "I'm a cultured, handsome catch" attitude. Damn it all, he should be hung by his toes and –

"You pull out her chair, hold doors, hold her hand, ask for and value her input in the wine selection, and make sure not to bring up issues you know you'll disagree on," a bass voice said from behind him, sounding amused and intrigued. "And most women like flowers too."

Koumokuten stared at Zouchouten, who was holding his own briefcase and smiling as he paternally added, "And Xavier, try not to insult the waiter."

"She _likes _when I insult the waiter," Koumokuten protested, a bit stunned. "And… how the hell do you know all that, Aaron? You don't date."

Zouchouten sighed, a rather annoyed look on his face, and told him, "I'm kind of fifty years old. If you think I was an ascetic monk you're stupid." He cocked his head ever so slightly to the side as he asked, "Who is she?"

"My daughter's gym teacher," Koumokuten admitted, picking up his coffee. "She's great."

"Ah." Zouchouten seemed a little perturbed now, and nervously queried, "Isn't that a bit, er… against regulations?"

"Regulations," Koumokuten said pointedly, "are just guidelines, really. Like the one that says, 'Thou shalt not covet thy assistant,' " he smirked, hitting below the belt and mentally sneering, _Take that, Aaron! We all know you'd like nothing more than to pull Ellen into a conference room and get naked on the table. Well, all of us except Ellen._

Zouchouten's expression changed from slightly disturbed to very annoyed, with a tinge of anger and a dash of embarrassment. He protested, "That's completely inappropriate, Xavier. I don't – I don't covet my assistant!"

He was lying like a rug. Karura was _indeed_ coveted, but in an "I really shouldn't but I can't help it" way, not an "I think I'll have a fling with my sexy assistant!" way. After all, he wrote her love notes that he'd never send and had an iPod playlist called "Reminds Me of Ellen."

Koumokuten saw right through Zouchouten's lie, and smirked, "Right Aaron. Right. Well, thanks for the tips." And with that he strolled out, off to meet his new assistant.

Edward Varuna, he realized a few days later, wasn't like Rudra. He obeyed without question, seemed completely cowed, and never, _ever _called his superior the "Bastard Boss from the Infernal Realms," or threw coffee around. Excellent, maybe this one would last a little longer. And he got on well with Vahyu, although Koumokuten had to wonder if Vahyu's motives were pure. After all, the man was gayer than a maypole and occasionally said things like, "Reginald looks _yummy _today," or, "Mr. Taishakuten can really fill out those slacks, huh?"

These invariably earned him a glare, a lecture on propriety, and a muttered, "Fag," from Koumokuten. Vahyu rolled with it though, because he knew where he stood and the overwhelming scientific evidence that said homosexuality was indeed natural. And if Xavier "Homophobe" Koumokuten couldn't appreciate the Ad Manager's beauty, too bad for him, the ugly fool.

Koumokuten appraised Varuna and Vahyu eating lunch together, Varuna nodding at something Vahyu was saying. Koumokuten thought that was, "Edward, your forelock turns me on. Do you want to join me for a night of deviancy?"

Instead, it was, "Hey, club is my favorite type of sandwich! Is it yours too?"

The head of Marketing made a face and twirled his lo mein on a fork. Sick, sick, sick, just like Victor Kujaku and James Yasha. Those two were queer to the extreme, and either Bishamonten was blind to it or… or secretly joined in? In some sort of pretty-man, Expansion triangle that Kisshouten never knew about?

Koumokuten hastily drank his Powerade as a distraction. He wasn't going there, thank you. Instead, he'd forcibly steer his attention to… Aguni! Yes, gorgeous, wonderful, goddess-like Aguni, who thought he was hot. He wasn't stupid, and while he was still a little surprised by it, he wasn't about to look a gift babe in the mouth. And how long had it been? Four years? No wait, Dublin, so two years.

_That's a long time to go without getting laid, _Masculinity whined (in a manly way, of course). _Not to mention Melissa kept using the headache excuse. Oh God, I don't want to turn into Aaron!_

_Soon, libido, _he soothed in his head. _She likes us, after all. But we can't move too fast and scare her away! Not to mention Tamara might hit the roof if we invite Sexy Aguni home. Or stay away for a night._

_Well, what about –?_

"Hello Xavier. May I sit down?"

He blinked and looked up at Bishamonten, who was holding a tray and smiling his "Notice my perfect teeth!" smile. And dear God, the man's hair was gleaming, how did he get it to do that? No matter what conditioner, shampoo, or serum Koumokuten used, his hair stayed dull black. The curse of being the unattractive one.

The handsome one smiled some more and teased, "Cat got your tongue, Xavier? May I sit down?"

Koumokuten nodded, smiling as well in a "Notice how I'm trying to be nice!" manner, and agreed, "Sure, Reginald. You go right ahead. I was just thinking of a problem I have to overcome."

Bishamonten sat down, placing his tray of lo mein and lemonade on the table and glancing at Vahyu and Varuna. "Is that your new assistant, with the, er… _unique_ hair?" he asked, rather condescendingly.

Koumokuten replied, "Yeah," his eyes glued to Bishamonten's even more unique hair. "Eddie there is still living in the eighties, I think."

At least with a low ponytail you could look rebellious in any era, he congratulated himself. And not risk having Vahyu think you were at least bi with your girly high ponytail and equally girly eyes. So maybe the eyelashes were a burden after all.

Bishamonten frowned, studying Koumokuten's minions, and observed, "Mr. Varuna seems rather flustered about something. Is Charles hitting on him already?"

Koumokuten sighed, picking up more lo mein, and muttered, "He hit on Percy on day one, and that namby-pamby 'artistic soul' hid in the bathroom. If Edward tries that I'm dragging him back out."

Unbeknownst to the Senior Vice Presidents, Vahyu was regaling his new friend with tales of their boss' "bad guy" moments. No wonder Varuna looked scared.

.

When, days later, it was time for the next dinner date, Koumokuten told Tamara a bald-faced lie: "Sweetie? I have another business dinner. Make sure to work on your chemistry homework extra hard, okay?"

"Daddy, since when do business dinners require a boutonniere?" she asked, a bit suspicious.

Koumokuten glanced down at the yellowish-orange rose (Aguni had informed him of her pyromaniacal tendencies by this point), and answered, "Since Taishakuten decreed that they do. Hopefully it's just this once, honey," he smiled, then had a genius idea. Cackling inside, he asked pleasantly, "You know, Tamara, you're old enough to start attending these dinners. Maybe next time you'd like to come with?"

She hated his work life, except, of course, the part about making gobs of money that could be spent on her. So she quickly lost all interest in his outing, and simpered, "No, Daddy. Um, I'll just go do my chemistry homework now."

He sighed, like he was _so _disappointed, and told her, "Okay then, honey, I'll be back later. Bye."

And he utilized every weapon Zouchouten had handed him. He gave Aguni flowers, which matched his boutonniere. He held doors, then let them slam in the face of an elderly lady after Aguni had passed through. He pulled out her chair, he held her hand, he let her pick the wine and avoided any talk of Tamara. She was flattered, and decided that he had passed the trials of "Potential Boyfriend" with flying colors. So Reba could suck it, because not only did Koumokuten despise people weaker than him, he thought the pyromania was intriguing. Plus he'd held doors!

"Xavier," she told him as they ate dessert, "every time we're together I have so much fun with you. Why, these dinners are even more enjoyable than when my last boyfriend and I went whitewater rafting!"

Koumokuten considered how to reply to this. His gut reaction was to grin, "Why Aguni, this is better than when my bitch wife and I went to see that stupid opera, and our vacation to Guam, and even when we went horseback riding and she got bucked off. I spend so much time looking forwards to them, you have no idea."

However, it might scare her if he told her dinners with her were better than things done with his deceased wife, so he settled for a heartfelt, "I'm glad to hear that, because when I'm with you time flies. Because we're having fun," he qualified rather clumsily.

"Yes we _are_," she replied fervently, toasting him with her wine. "We think alike on so many topics. And Xavier, I have to tell you, you look _good _in black."

"And you look good in orange," he returned, toasting her back. "It makes you look so… fiery."

_Okay, _she told herself as they got up to leave, _he has proven himself worthy. So it's time to ramp it up to the next level. And that level is: Level K, for "kiss." Plant one on him! Grab him and mash your lips together! Leave him lipstick-stained and stunned at your divine passion, Aguni!_

_But wait, _a tiny dissenting voice piped up. _That's what we did with Henry! Men like to think they initiated such an act. So –_

"Can I walk you to your car?" Koumokuten asked gallantly, having put his coat on. "It's dark after all." He was well aware that Aguni would probably step on the heads of any muggers even if she were wearing heels, but shh, he was being dashing!

"That's so sweet," she sighed, taking his arm. "Yes, yes you can walk me to my car. Because like you said, it's dark, and I might get _scared._"

A passing waiter rolled his eyes. Who wrote the material for these people anyway?

Koumokuten held the door again, fixed his tie, and escorted his date to her red sports car. Being a teacher usually meant secondhand, but being a teacher at Rosehedge Academy meant decent wheels. This one had a personalized license plate too, one that said "IGNITE," with a stylized flame border.

"Aguni," he told her, "I had a wonderful time tonight. I mean, _really _wonderful."

"So did I," she downright tittered, leaning in ever so slightly and thinking, _Take the bait, Xavier. Aren't I just __so__ kissable? _

"Say," he murmured, leaning in as well, "I think you owe me something for such a good time, don't you?" His half-lidded eyes and pursed lips left little doubt as to what she owed him, and she was more than happy to pony up.

"Okay then," she whispered, tilting her head up just as he tilted his down. And yes… contact! In her head, she cheered, _Houston, we have liplock! Ha-ha, yes! _

Smooching in a public place… wasn't it fun? You told the world, "I like this person enough to engage in displays of affection where other people can see us!" Unfortunately, just as Koumokuten's tongue touched Aguni's lips, a sudden honk from behind made them both jump. WTF?!

"Hey!" an irate voice snapped, its owner having rolled the window down. "I'd like to park right where you're standing!"

Koumokuten flipped the driver off, in a move that was both immature and completely in character. How dare this buffoon ruin such a moment? What he would give for some nails to put under Mr. Impatient's tires. Or a rock to heave through his windshield. The spell had regrettably been broken, but then… he had a genius idea.

"Aguni," he told her as they got out of Mr. Impatient's way, "Tamara will be gone the week after next at a slumber party. Would you like to come over, and I can cook you dinner?"

Yeah! He'd show off his culinary skills! He'd make something macho, like steak, or his Alaskan salmon, a nice manly recipe, not as manly as on a grill but oh well, it was November by now. She'd be _so _impressed with his primal "I am male! I cook my prey!" bit.

She certainly was now, and smiled, "Oh yes, that'd be lovely! I didn't know you were into cooking."

"I'm competent enough at it," he said, using the "Aw shucks, I'm brilliant at it but pretend to be humble" voice and shrug. "Do you like salmon? I have this great recipe I think you'll enjoy, because it's so spicy Tamara's eyes tear up. I love spicy food."

Aguni's mouth was watering already. "I love spicy food too! You obviously noticed that by now," she smirked, nudging him in the ribs.

"I did," he replied proudly. His god-like observational skills had picked up on that fact, and now it would be put to good use.

So he gave her one more kiss, this time without being interrupted, opened her car door for her, and drove home in an enamored daze. He ran three stop signs, a red light, and almost hit a raccoon he was so distracted. He would make _damn _sure Tamara didn't back out of that slumber party at the last minute.

.

Thus, two weeks later Aguni was standing in front of her closet, wearing a towel because even divine femme fatales got cold sometimes. She'd already worn the orange dress with the built-in bustier, and the little black dress, and while she did have a few other nice outfits, it was time for… the red one.

Yes, things had progressed to the point that she wanted nothing more than to jump Koumokuten's bones, and even if she couldn't get with him tonight, she could make damn sure he wanted her. So she shimmied into the low-cut, skin-tight, crimson dress with two side slits, and added gold jewelry. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe she was overdressing, and perhaps she should have chosen a pantsuit. Or a sweater and skirt.

But no! she told herself firmly. Even if Koumokuten were wearing jeans and a sweater, she would be wearing the red one because it was super sexy. She would knock him dead with her killer bod (an appropriate adjective), and soon he would suggest, "Why don't we find a motel on our next date?"

Too bad she had to wear a coat, she despaired as she started her car. If only it were spring, she could make a first impression that would probably stop his heart for a moment. But alas, it was November instead, and driving in a light dress wouldn't be enjoyable at all.

And then, as she pulled up outside his house, she had a flash of inspired genius. She'd take the coat off on his front steps and _then _ring the doorbell, so he'd get the full effect of the dress!

_Brilliant Aguni, you goddess amongst mortals! You deserve admission into MENSA for this brain wave._

She shut her car door, locked it, and practically skipped up the sidewalk, grinning. Yes it was so cold she could see her breath, but she was tough. She'd handled worse, like the time she'd dived into freezing water in January to show the world how badass she was. The cold would not deter her from her genius plan! So Aguni "Psycho" Steel, whose neighbors had a strange habit of moving away after two years, unbuttoned her coat, shrugged it off, struck a sexy pose with the coat under her arm, and rang Koumokuten's doorbell.

_Ding-dong!_

He opened the door almost immediately, and his eyes went so wide she thought he might hurt himself. His mouth had dropped open too, and he was staring at her like she was a five-course dinner and he was a starving man.

_Yes, Xavier, _she purred in her head, _I have breasts._

"Xavier," she smiled, shivering (but it was totally worth it!), "are you going to let me in?"

"Uh…"

He was still staring, his mouth still hanging open. She probably could have been wearing a Carmen Miranda hat and he wouldn't have noticed. Or boots shaped like monster feet, because his gaze was torso-level and unlikely to move from there anytime soon. She smugly thought, _Thank you, red one. You have fulfilled your duty._

"Come in," he smiled, apparently only now realizing that she was standing on his porch in November sans a coat. "Are you cold?" It was a stupid question, but he had to ask _something. _According to feminists, drooling and keeping your eyes locked on naughty areas was a no-no. Instead, one had to act cultured and chivalrous, not primitive.

"Oh, just a tad," she replied blithely as she stepped inside. "My, it smells good in here. Is the salmon ready?"

"It'll be ready in about half an hour," he assured her, taking her coat. "Here, c'mon into the living room."

He led her into that chamber, setting her coat on the couch and hoping she'd compliment his taste in furniture. But instead, she gazed at the mantle and the pictures set on it.

"My, you seem to have one for every year of Tamara's life," she said, in that falsely happy tone used when one is rather annoyed but is too polite to show it. "She was a very, er, cute baby."

"Wasn't she?" he enthused. "That's Tamara at age one. Next to that is Tamara at age two. Next to that… you get it." He patted the photo of his daughter at age six, wearing a princess dress and holding her pet rabbit (Mr. Bun-Bun had not survived long).

"I see," Aguni chirped, then frowned at a picture of a woman who looked just like an older Tamara, except with different hair. "Who's the lady?" she asked, pointing.

"That's Melissa, my deceased wife." Koumokuten glanced at the picture, and suddenly reached out and turned it to the wall, muttering, "She'd be upset I'm dating someone else, so she gets to face the wall tonight." _She's probably spinning in her grave because I'm having fun,_ he added to himself, hoping Satan had shown Melissa her husband's reaction to this delectable red dress of Aguni's.

"Anyway Aguni," he said, cheerful as could be now that Melissa wasn't watching, "I've set the table for two, toasted a baguette, and chilled some wine for us. A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou… and," he brandished a lighter, "a fire in the fireplace."

"Really?" she breathed, her eyes glowing, and good lord, under her top, were those –?

"Can _I _light it, Xavier?" she purred, her eyes half-lidded now, and yes, those _were –_

"Sure, Aguni," he smiled, holding the lighter out like a fabulous gift. "I know you like fire." _Judging by what's happening, you __really__ like fire. A lot. That's kinda… scary but sexy._

Aguni accepted the lighter, perched herself on the stone ledge of the fireplace, and ignited the logs, beaming in a manner that most people would have found very disturbing. Koumokuten himself found it, well, _adorable._ In a sexy way. Hugs and romantic sentiments couldn't compare, because this woman had just _set something alight. _She turned back to face him, backlit by flames like some sort of conquering Amazon, one who'd just set fire to a village of traitorous peasants (even now, his violent thought patterns were in operation). With her hair reflecting the fire, it almost looked like she was part of it.

"Oh Xavier, did you soak the logs in lighter fluid?" she asked, smiling a broad smile. "They went up in flames so quickly!"

"Yeah," he managed, transfixed. "Well, I mean, I liberally applied it because I thought you'd appreciate a blaze."

They stared at each other, and by all rights there should have been some sort of romantic music playing, or at least "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye, except neither of them were very sensitive people. Their gazes were locked, the lights were low, they were all alone… the perfect setting for some love.

Koumokuten made a decision then. It was time to be manly and forceful, in a respectful way of course. It was time to stop worrying that Tamara might pop in the door and whine, "Daddy, I forgot my hair rollers!" Yes, it was time to show off his physical side, and metaphorically flip off Bishamonten and his good looks. And Zouchouten and his Schwarzenegger build, just for the hell of it.

So he moved forward and touched her neck, murmuring, "Aguni… you're gorgeous." By which he meant, "I want to throw you down and get adult."

She stood up and touched his face, whispering, "Oh, Xavier… I think you're so _entrancing._" By which she meant, "Me too! Let's forget the dinner."

And, as the salmon started to overcook on the edges, they did. Koumokuten didn't remember the main course until smoke started drifting into the living room an hour later, because who needed food when you could have sex? Not him!

And dear _God_… it was good. Scratch that, it was great. Scratch _that_, it was super mind-blowingly awesome. He couldn't help but think, _Take that, Melissa! See, I can inspire multiples after all, you frigid bitch._

But alas, all good things must come to an end. Leaving aside the burning salmon, which he'd quickly taken care of, the phone rang just as he was pondering initiating another round. At first he ignored it, but then…

"Daddy!" Tamara's voice wailed on the answering machine, making Aguni wince. "Come pick me up! Rochelle insulted me, and Isabella and Cindia sided with _her! _I can't stay here!"

For the first time in his life, Koumokuten hated his daughter. She'd interrupted a private moment of pure awesomeness, dammit. Maybe if he pretended he couldn't hear her she'd give up and tough it out. He hoped really, really hard that that would be the case, and she wouldn't just say –

"Daddy!" she wailed again. "Pick the phone up, Daddy! Are you upstairs? I'll just scream until you hear me and –"

"Princess," he gritted into the phone as Aguni pouted in front of the fireplace, "don't scream. Do I really have to come get you? I mean, can't you just tou–"

"NOW, Daddy!" she shrieked, making him wince and hold the phone away from his ringing ear. "I feel a panic attack coming on!" In actuality it was a bitchfit coming on, because she didn't _get _panic attacks, but it worked.

"Okay honey," he said grumpily, "I'll come get you. Calm down. Take deep breaths. Have some more… popcorn or whatever it is you're eating. I'll be there soon," he promised, not wanting to leave this room at all.

"Thanks Daddy," she sniffled, and he muttered, "You're welcome," then hung up.

He turned back to Aguni, who rolled her eyes and picked up her dress, looking very put out. He couldn't blame her in the least, and for a moment considered grounding Tamara on some trumped-up charge of disobedience. He tended to take his frustrations out on other people, after all, and this _was _all her fault.

"I'm sorry Aguni," he apologized, reaching for his pants, "but I can't get out of this. I'm _so _sorry you –"

"No, I understand," she sighed regretfully. "She's your child, after all. I'm just thankful she didn't call earlier, because that was, to borrow an adolescent expression, 'made of win.' It was fantastic."

"It was, wasn't it," he agreed, helping her zip her dress back up. "My God, it was the best I've ever had."

After making sure that all clothes had been put on and all lipstick stains were off his face, he escorted her to the door, feeling somewhat churlish. Geez, this looked bad: she hadn't even gotten any food out of this, just sex, and here he was getting rid of her. He felt like such a cad, to use some of Bishamonten's vocabulary.

"I'm sorry you have to leave so soon," he murmured. "I don't _want _to kick you out."

"I know."

She took a step, turned back, threw herself into his arms, and gave him yet another passionate kiss. So clearly, his mind deadpanned, she wasn't too upset about the situation, and understood completely. What a perfect woman.

"Xavier," she breathed when they parted, "I _love _you."

"Same here, Aguni. I mean, I love _you_," he replied, smiling.

Such sentiments had been expressed while the salmon was burning, often loudly. Still, it was great to hear her say it when not in the throes of passion, because some people would say anything to get off. But nope, this one had been telling the truth, and he'd told the truth back to her, peppered in between naughty and very explicit phrases.

"Oh Xavier… next weekend, you can come to _my _house," she suggested, "and stay the whole night."

That was a great idea, but how would he explain it to Tamara? Aha…

"Sure Aguni, I'll just tell Tamara I'm on an overnight business trip. In fact," he decided happily, "why not make it a weekend business trip, and I can stay with you the entire time? We can go out to dinner and everything."

"Wonderful!" she laughed, hugging him so tightly something cracked. "Now hurry, go pick up your daughter before she thinks something's amiss."

The idea that maybe Tamara should be alerted to this new direction of their relationship had been briefly touched on earlier, when Koumokuten was spritzing water on the smoldering salmon so the oven didn't catch fire. And, in a nod to bad parents/parents' lovers everywhere, it had been decided that Tamara _would _be told… eventually. Maybe when Aguni got pregnant, or something, they hadn't really given much thought to when "eventually" would be.

So when Koumokuten showed up at Cindia's house looking almost beatific, Tamara was given no indication of what had happened in front of the fireplace. She just hopped in the passenger seat and gave the stereo a weird look, snapping, "Daddy, turn down that… that 'I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you' thing. I hate it."

Indeed, she hated all classic rock, and rock in general. Actually, all she liked was pop, and in particular male singers who were sexy (besides her Classical voice pieces). Give her a choice between Enrique Iglesias and Billie-Joe Armstrong, and Green Day's awesome frontman would lose.

"Tamara," Koumokuten said serenely, "you just haven't been exposed to Blue Oyster Cult enough to appreciate this song."

She sighed and stuck her earbuds in, turning up Justin Bieber. There was no accounting for taste.

.

The next morning, Tamara was awoken by the horrible strains of "Super Freak" floating up from the kitchen. Cringing and resisting the urge to clamp her pillow over her head, she instead put on her robe and stomped downstairs. Once there, she put her hands on her hips and ordered, "Daddy! Stop singing."

Koumokuten paused in the act of pouring cereal into a bowl, and sighed, "And good morning to you too, Princess."

Satisfied that he'd shut up, she grabbed an orange and stuck two pieces of bread in the toaster, as he returned his attention to his cereal, which had overflowed the bowl. Great. As he scooped some back into the box, he thought, _Oh well, at least she isn't suspicious._

Five minutes later found Tamara eating toast and Koumokuten staring into space, reliving the glorious experience of premarital sex with the woman his unsuspecting daughter hated. But too bad, because _he _liked her. It went beyond "like," actually. WAY beyond. He beamed in satisfied reverie, his spoonful of cereal forgotten ("Shitenn-O's: the breakfast of gods"), and thought, _You can light my fire whenever you want, Aguni. I'll never look at flames the same way again._

"Daddy…? Daddy? DADDY!"

He blinked and focused on Tamara. "Yes sweetie?" he asked, then belatedly ate his bite of cereal.

"Daddy, you were grinning at the wall." She eyed him suspiciously and snapped, "What's going on? It's weird, and I don't like it. Are you hiding something from me?"

"Tamara," he hedged, putting his spoon back down, "your father's just in a great mood because he's found a lovely new territory to conquer." _One that involves copious amounts of physical satisfaction and heartfelt talks._

"Oh." She nodded; no doubt her dad had been given a new assignment at work. "That's nice," she said, losing all interest.

"Yeah," Koumokuten murmured, beaming again, "yeah, that's real nice."

He got himself ready for work on autopilot, almost left wearing a pair of Tamara's giant hoop earrings, and floated into the garage, having double-checked to make sure his appearance was normal. He barely noticed the traffic, or the gripping hostage situation in real-time on the radio, or even the word from our sponsor (Tenkai Corporation, in his best radio ad campaign yet).

_I'm in looove! _Masculinity sang, throwing its arms out and skipping through a field of – well, a desert wasteland, the flowers having been firebombed.

He smiled as he strode past security, who paled because smiling Koumokuten usually meant trouble. He smiled as he encountered a curious Zouchouten in the elevator. He smiled as Varuna handed him his coffee and cringed in anticipation of a dressing down. He even smiled when Taishakuten decreed, "From now on, gentlemen, anyone who even mentions me tripping on the stairs will be shot, and I don't mean that metaphorically."

Koumokuten was completely useless at the morning briefing, a fact that no one else could miss. Finally, as Taishakuten excused himself to take a call, Bishamonten asked, "What's going on? You're looking happy, and not arrogant-happy either."

Koumokuten just smiled some more. "You ever been in love, Reginald?" he asked dreamily, doodling a little heart with stylized flames on his notepad. "Have you?"

Bishamonten gave him a "You're scaring me" look, and answered, "Yes, of course I have. I'm _married_," he said, in the tone of voice one uses with the mentally challenged. "And I would assume you have too, as you were married as well."

Melissa yelling at him on their wedding night ("It's raining, Xavier! You promised me a Caribbean paradise, not a hurricane!") flashed into Koumokuten's head, and he floundered, "Uh, yeah, of course. I just meant… uh… y'know what, never mind," he snapped, doodling a stick figure with a high ponytail getting eaten by a shark.

Bishamonten considered him for a moment, shrugged ever so slightly, and let it drop, deciding that soon he'd be watching Koumokuten get embroiled in a sexual harassment suit. Because what kind of wacko would find that man attractive?

As Bishamonten shuddered slightly Zouchouten made a mental note to not pry, just in case such infatuated glee was the result of X-rated business, which he'd really rather not think about. He was in favor of responsible adults doing whatever they wanted within legal limits, but he didn't have to dwell on it. If his pal had indeed banged the gym teacher, that was their private affair, not his. Thankfully.

.

Just as Koumokuten was dorkily happy, so too was Aguni. Life had new meaning, and was it just her or was the world brighter? Her dark lover occupied her thoughts all the time, even during staff meetings where Mrs. Butterkin babbled on about how children were a gift from God above. He popped up in her dreams, and she also had lovely daydreams of the two of them setting Mrs. Butterkin on fire _together_.

So Aguni wrote him poems (surprisingly, they were normal-person caliber and rarely mentioned violence). She added more black to her wardrobe (and she looked good in it too). She smiled at Principal Dawson in the halls ("Ms. Steel, you're scaring me…").

Koumokuten too did things differently in his glee. He slapped Zouchouten on the back (and winced when Zouchouten heartily returned the favor). He bought Tamara a new parure ("Daddy, I like _pink _pearls!"). He sang in the shower at the top of his lungs ("I'm just a hunka hunka burnin' love!").

_Oh Melissa, _he chuckled as he left for yet another "business trip" to Aguni's house, _spin in your grave until you get dizzy, because I'm livin' the good life now._

And then, late one night in December when he was frowning over a scary book (Eat, Pray, Love), his cellphone rang. He closed the horrible thing with no qualms whatsoever, because even if this were Bishamonten calling to complain about the Christmas gift he'd been given, it was a welcome distraction. But no, Bishamonten had rolled his eyes and regifted the Monopoly: Deluxe Wall Street Edition board game he'd received, and wouldn't waste valuable time calling the giver. Instead, the caller was none other than Aguni.

"Xavier," she purred, "I haven't seen you since Christmas Eve. I'm _lonely. _Want to come over and help me with that?" she suggested innocently. Or as much as someone like her could do innocent, anyway.

"Sure I would," he replied quickly, grinning out at the world through his bedroom window. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right, master of my heart," she cooed (they'd progressed to stupid nicknames by this point, most of them involving military metaphors and fire). "Hurry! I'm ever so needy."

"I'll be there," Koumokuten promised, using the manly voice. "In a jiffy."

He hung up and considered how to go about this. Tamara was a light sleeper, and if he walked past her room at a quarter to twelve at night, she'd wonder what was going on. So hmm, if one route was closed, there had to be an alternate, like…

Like his bedroom window! Yes, he'd snuck out that way when he was a teenager, and his parents had never been the wiser. They'd thought he was slumbering peacefully while he'd been fooling bartenders into thinking he was twenty-one. If he'd told them now, they would still be completely shocked.

He crossed to the thing and considered his route. The roof had a fairly gentle angle, and the garage roof was a mere five feet below it. And from there the snow would cushion his landing.

_Cool, _he grinned as he put on two extra sweatshirts because his coat was downstairs, _this'll be easy. _

He grabbed his keys (he never let them out of his sight now, what with Tamara hinting that she'd like to learn to drive), opened the window, and paused. Just because there was fluffy, winter-wonderland snow, it didn't mean there wasn't ice under it. If he fell off the roof he'd be acutely embarrassed, not to mention probably severely injured, and Tamara would poke her head out and shriek, "DADDY! Oh my God, what's the number for 911?!"

So he brushed some snow aside, and there was indeed a tiny bit of ice. But damn it all, his woman was in need, so he and his macho self would find a way, braving a broken neck, twisted ankles, and that insomniac neighbor on the left looking up and thinking he was a burglar.

Koumokuten psyched himself up with a mental pep talk, crawled out the window, and simply crawled across the roof as well, because redistributed weight would make it easier. And while it was a tad slippery, he made sure to go slowly to be safe.

As her dad was lowering himself onto the garage roof, Tamara was listening to Beyoncé's "Crazy in Love" on her iPod, fantasizing about her ideal boyfriend. He'd of course be handsome, with long hair because long hair was sexy, with gorgeous eyes and a megawatt smile, and polite and caring. And here was the biggest thing: he'd be a pushover, so she could boss him around and make him buy her whatever she wanted! Koumokuten had been slacking off in that duty lately, so Ideal Boyfriend would happily buy his girlfriend those cute shoes and matching purse.

She hummed along under her breath, the sound of a car starting in the garage going right over her head.

_Ha, _Koumokuten gloated, brushing snow off his sleeve. _I'm a ninja. Reginald isn't bold enough to perform my daring escape, Aaron would've slipped and probably broken through the roof, and Taishakuten would've gotten his hair caught on the gutter! Oh yes, Xavier, you __win__. Aguni will be so impressed by your problem-solving skills!_

And indeed, she was.

.

It was now March, and Tamara had finally stopped focusing on herself long enough to realize that something was wrong. Leaving aside the shower-singing, the staring into space, and the pervy grin whenever fire was mentioned, her dad kept leaving the house for no apparent reason.

And staying away for long periods of time. Although he did go on business trips, and Taishakuten _did _sometimes make his executives come into the office at weird hours, Tamara found it hard to believe that that was all. Something was up, and it had her worried. So as Koumokuten prepared to head out the door yet again, she asked, seriously and sounding a bit nervous, "Daddy, you keep staying out late and running off immediately after dinner. What's going on?"

Koumokuten had been expecting this question, and he had a prepared response: _"Princess, I've been single for years, and your mom and I had a difficult relationship by the end. Every man has needs, varied and fundamental ones, like companionship and affection. So I'm going on a date, honey, and while you'll always be my little girl, it's time to realize that there's a new, wonderful person in my life."_

He smiled at her confidently, opened his mouth… and wimped out again.

"Princess, I've joined a film club. Today we're viewing 'Schindler's List,' and I'm very excited," he lied, straight-faced and with very little regret. After all, she might get upset, and he'd rather not deal with another bitchfit.

Tamara was incredibly relieved. Unbeknownst to her father, she'd had the horrible suspicion he'd been patronizing hookers. But no, instead he was watching stodgy old movies, the type without heartthrob fanservice or catchy pop soundtracks, blah. What kind of idiot preferred boring old classics?

"Fascinating," she yawned. "Is 'A Walk to Remember' included?"

Koumokuten started to say, "Oh hell no," then caught himself and instead replied, "No honey, it's not. But 'Titanic' is. We viewed that one a week ago. What a great ending, huh?" he asked cheerfully.

She gave him a weirded-out look and corrected, " 'Titanic' has a sad ending, Daddy."

"No it doesn't. Leonardo DiCaprio's dead! That's happy in _my _book," he proclaimed grandly, having suffered through Tamara's "Leo" infatuation phase with gritted teeth. "Anyway sweetie, I'll be back around eleven. Make sure not to watch obscene TV," he cautioned, giving her a look that said, "Obey me!"

Tamara smiled, nodded, and turned on "When Handsome Men Get Drunk and Strip" when he was gone.

"Xavier," Aguni asked half an hour later, "is she getting suspicious? It's been months. Surely she's noticed the changes in you?"

Principal Dawson, Mrs. Butterkin, and the entire Steel clan had been very intrigued by the gym teacher's scary happiness. And while Reba had nervously met Koumokuten and later had to go lie down, Aguni's father, sister, and brothers thought he was just swell. They were, after all, all related to "Psycho Steel," and as such shared her worldview to some extent.

"Well my fiery angel," Koumokuten thought aloud, "I, er… I'll tell her soon," he said hastily, feeling a bit guilty about the film club lie. "I'll have to ease her into it. You know, so it's not such a shock."

"That's wise," Aguni agreed. "She might flip out and throw a tantrum. If you need any help breaking it to her, you know I'll back you up."

"That's right," he nodded, smiling. "You've got my back, fire goddess."

"Oh yes, master of my heart."

.

A month later, as Koumokuten was working on a spreadsheet in his office, his cellphone rang insistently. Never one to pass up a chance to escape a spreadsheet, he answered it as quickly as he could with, "Hello, you've reached Xavier Koumokuten, Senior Vice President of Marketing."

"Xavier, I have wonderful news!" Aguni's disturbingly cheerful voice rang in his ear. "Mrs. Butterkin had a nervous breakdown! And guess what caused it," she grinned, as in the background the paramedics left.

"Did _you_, my ardent Amazon?" he guessed, proud as could be. After all, he hated that woman. The English teacher was of the opinion that parents who disciplined their children at all were damping down the little darlings' charming exuberance. She was one of those hippie-dippy people that he thought should be shot on sight.

"No," Aguni replied, rather disappointed. "You see, one of the students backtalked her, and the whole class joined in. There was near anarchy for about five minutes, but then yours truly came to the rescue and made them all sit down, shut up, and stop standing on desks. Alas," she said virtuously, "it was too late for her. She'll spend the next six weeks in a controlled environment."

The way she said it, the virtuousness was clearly sarcastic. She felt like throwing her head back and screaming in triumphant, evil laughter. Mrs. Butterkin had seen the error of her ways, and Ms. Steel had demonstrated her power once again!

"What a _terrible _shame," Koumokuten snickered. "Babe, I'm so happy you laid down the law where she couldn't. Do you think you'll get a raise?"

"Probably not," she sighed. "Principal Dawson is so stingy with wage increases. Anyway Xavier, I had to tell you this wonderful news because we both think that woman is bonkers. Plus, I wanted to hear your voice."

"That's so sweet," he sighed in pure, infatuated longing. "Fire goddess, I –"

"Xavier! You're on the clock!" Bishamonten hissed, sticking his head into Koumokuten's office. "This is no time for sappy lines and stupid smiles. Hang up and get back to work," he ordered snappishly.

Koumokuten glowered at him, but as Bishamonten was still standing there he sighed, "Aguni darling, I have to go now. I love you, okay?"

"And I love _you_. See you tonight, dark overlord of desire."

And with that she hung up, leaving Koumokuten to follow her example and try to kill Bishamonten with his gaze. He bitched, "Reginald, you can go to hell. You ruined a perfectly perfect moment, dammit."

Bishamonten just arched an elegant brow in that infuriating way he had, and pointed out, "You said 'fire goddess.' Care to enlighten me as to why this is a term of endearment? Are you dating a firefighter, or something?" he asked witheringly.

"I'm dating a gym teacher," Koumokuten growled, scrolling down his spreadsheet with a violent press of a button. "But she likes fire. Look, I'm working now, okay? So go away. And no," he continued before Bishamonten could say it, "I won't just call her right back when you leave."

Bishamonten nodded, smiled smugly, and left. Koumokuten amused himself by imagining his friend falling down a flight of stairs (a _long _flight of stairs) before his thoughts returned to Aguni.

Ah, she was so wonderful. She made him feel like a teenager again, minus the pimples and knobby joints and mullet. The raging hormones were still there though, oh yes they were. He'd written her love letters (er, emails), he'd created an iPod playlist called "Aguni Songs," and he'd bought her lingerie that said "Smokin' ."

And then he realized something. Aguni was slightly psycho, a slavedriver, a pyro, and walked all over those she thought were beneath her. And that meant she was… _The One. _She was evil, he was evil. He was a son of a bitch, she was a bitch. She liked putting down humanitarian acts, he thought humanitarians should be interned in detention camps. He secretly fantasized about setting Taishakuten's hair on fire, she secretly fantasized about blowing up Principal Dawson's house with him in it.

Where else would he find such a soulmate? Well, besides a war zone. He'd been lucky enough to meet Aguni, and wasn't it time the world knew that?

_Melissa trapped me with the pregnancy, but Aguni hates kids! Melissa demanded extravagant gifts, but Aguni requests fires in the fireplace! There's a reason Melissa had to die, and –_

Oh… yeah. There was that tiny issue of him having gotten rid of his wife.

He stared blankly at his screen for a while. While it might have been wise for him to completely ignore that Melissa-murdering thing, his stunted conscience was lecturing, _You can't hide something like that from Aguni, and she deserves to know the truth._

_What if she calls the police? _he protested. _I don't wanna go to prison, hello._

_Well, _his tiny good side muttered, _she does love you an awful lot, so she probably won't. And here's the thing: if you butter her up and pledge to be her sex slave, maybe she'll help you keep it a secret._

_I __really__ don't want to tell her, conscience, _he whined, thunking his head down on his desk. _Can't I just pretend Melissa __did__ die by accident? I mean, it's not like I bashed her head in myself! I could have accidentally spilled soapy dishwater and she might have died anyway!_

_Nope. You will tell Aguni everything, _the conscience commanded, like the voice of God. _You will._

"You _suck_, conscience," Koumokuten groaned against the wood of his desk. "This is why I hardly ever listen to you."

.

Humming a happy little tune, Aguni spritzed "Heat" perfume on and grinned at her reflection in the mirror. She looked damn good, she was wearing the "Smokin' " lingerie under her sundress, and she had her favorite earrings in. They were ethnic: giant orbs of metallic orange and long white tassels with gold trim, and they made her look exotic. They probably would have looked even better with fanservice-y armor that wouldn't afford much actual protection, but oh well.

"I am Fire Goddess Aguni," she sang, in between applying crimson lipstick. "I'm going to screw Xavier Koumokuten into next week, la-la-la-laaa…!"

She was a terrible singer, but she was convinced she was on Sarah Brightman's level. Of course Sarah Brightman was a soprano and Aguni was an alto, but who cared? They were both vocal powerhouses, she assured herself as a squirrel on the roof pawed at its little ears in agony.

Having finished making a joyful and terrible noise, she trotted downstairs and made sure everything was as it should be. Yes, the table was set, the chicken was in the oven, and the sound system was playing "Body Language" by Queen. It was perfect, and Koumokuten would be here in –

_Ding-dong!_

Ah, he was here now! She strutted over to the door and answered it with one hip cocked out for that sexy effect. And yes, it was her lover, clad in business attire and with a bottle of what looked like pricy alcohol in tow. Today he had the hoop earrings in, as he'd had a meeting with a powerful executive from another company and wanted to look his best, but not even that could make Koumokuten put a suit jacket on.

"Why hello Xavier! What brings you to my door?" she flirted, fluttering her lashes.

"Hi Aguni," he smiled, looking a bit strained. "I brought the wine like you asked me to. Red. I like red, so do you, ha."

"Xavier, you seem tense," she pointed out in a worried coo. "Is something wrong? You look almost scared about something. Can I make it better in any way?" she offered, tugging him gently towards her by his tie.

"Um… well, I – hey," he said rather desperately, "I love those earrings."

She shrugged a bit and went with it. "So do I. Aren't they lovely?"

After fifteen minutes of lovers' little nothings ("You're my gorgeous, red-hot, warrior goddess babe who sets my soul alight," "You're my mystical commander on the battlefields of the heart"), he got up the nerve to say, "Aguni, there's something I have to tell you. A few things, actually."

"Yes?" she asked, suddenly fearful that he was about to break up with her. But why?!

"Aguni," he told her, looking her right in the eye, "I am madly, passionately, and irreversibly in love with you. You leave Melissa in the dust, and I think that if she'd still been alive I would've had to divorce her after we met."

"Xavier," she almost sobbed in relief, "I love you in that same mad, passionate, irreversible way! I don't know what I'd do without you, and I want us to be together forever. And I might have had to kill Melissa after I met you," she said cheerfully, making him pale ever so slightly at "kill Melissa."

"I want us to be together forever too," he replied with complete honesty. "But there's, um, one little thing…" He fiddled with an earring, then admitted, "Melissa kinda, well, slipped on that water because –"

"I suspected as much," Aguni grinned. "I think that was very bold and devious of you."

Koumokuten was pleasantly shocked. He'd rather been expecting an immediate gasp of "Oh my God, I slept with a murderer!" But no, she was _impressed _by it!

_Rock __on__, Xavier, you manly example of devious boldness! Do not __ever__ let this wonderful fire goddess go. Bind her to you so tightly she'll have trouble breathing, and metaphorically handcuff yourself to her so she can never get away! Go for it, you stud you! _his ego encouraged.

"Pele," he grinned, taking one of her hands in his, "why don't you move in with me?"

Aguni thought for a moment, then reluctantly replied, "Your daughter will be incandescent with rage, my dark overlord. She'll resent my intrusion into her sphere of influence."

Koumokuten considered this, and yes, he could picture it now: Tamara replacing Aguni's shampoo with Nair, "accidentally" destroying her sexiest clothes, and mailing her earrings to Rwanda. Then a brilliant idea to outflank his daughter occurred to him.

"Fire of my heart… what if you were my _wife?_" he suggested happily. No sense beating around the bush any longer!

Aguni beamed, planning the honeymoon in her head already, and cried, "Oh my studly _sex sorcerer_, yes! Yes, I'll marry you!" she told him at the top of her lungs.

"Great! Really great," he enthused, patting her hand. "Tamara will still whine, of course. But that's okay, because we can tune her out and order her to do her homework. She'll get over it, my –" (wrist kiss) "– gorgeous –" (lower arm kiss) "– inferno –" (elbow kiss) "– of feminine power."

"Oh _Xavier…_"

"Oh _Aguni…_"

.

The next morning found Tamara, her makeup and hair perfect as usual, almost skipping out to the limo. It was another school day, which meant a day replete with gossip, making fun of the unworthy, and mooning over cute boys. Oh, and that annoying learning part.

"Tamara," Minnie called after her, "your dad's on the phone, he has something important to tell you."

Tamara shook her head stubbornly and sniffed, "I'll be late already, he can wait." Before Minnie could protest, she'd shut the door and ordered, "School, Becca. And step on it."

As Minnie frantically tried to make Tamara come back, the driver took off like a shot. The housekeeper sighed, rolled her eyes heavenwards, and informed Koumokuten, "She ignored me, sir. Completely."

"Damn," he sighed. "Okay, I'll just call her mobile phone."

Alas, Tamara had already dialed Cindia, and was dishing the dirt on Isabella and Peter, "and the best part is Rochelle still thinks Peter's hers!"

"Hee-hee-hee, will she get a surprise come History!" Cindia sniggered. "How much you wanna bet that –"

_Beep!_

"– She starts crying?"

Tamara completely ignored the other line, because it was probably just Rochelle anyway and this gossip was too delicious to ignore. That stupid fatty kept calling, though. So Tamara, Queen of Rosehedge Academy, simply turned her phone off. She didn't have to deal with annoying, eight-pounds-overweight losers who would be providing entertainment soon anyway!

As she changed for gym, she steeled herself for badminton. It wouldn't have been so bad if Ms. Psycho had let the girls wear those cute tennis skirts Mr. Wilkins' class got to wear, because then all the boys would be distracted anyway. But nooo… Aguni was under the mistaken impression that gym shorts were more practical.

Tamara decided to fake a leg cramp today. She'd kept that one in reserve, and while "I'm having PMS cramps" had resulted in "Take some painkillers and get back on the soccer field," if her leg "hurt too much to run" she'd be home free. So she limped out, made strained, suffering faces during the stretches, sit-ups, and pushups, and when Aguni ordered them to run five laps she put up her hand, her lower lip trembling.

"Ms. Steel? I don't think I can do that," she said, with a little quaver in her voice.

Aguni barked, "The rest of you, move it!" and came over to where Tamara sat, rubbing her right leg. With her hands on her hips, the blond demon asked, "And why not, Tamara? Are you injured? I don't see a doctor's note, and you know I require those to let someone off the hook for my class."

"I have a _terrible _leg cramp," Tamara whined, "and all that stretching made it worse! It feels like my leg is being electrocuted, and I'll be limping all day."

Aguni arched a brow and asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"Since yesterday," Tamara lied shamelessly. "My dad thinks I should see a doctor. He meant to write you a note but he left early and forget."

As Koumokuten would surely have mentioned his little girl's pain sometime during the private engagement celebration, not to mention the note lie, Aguni saw right through this ploy. Oh, she'd have to work hard to whip her future stepdaughter into shape, she thought as she smirked, "Nice try. Run laps like everyone else."

"Yeah Tamara," Milton yelled, panting and holding his baggy shorts up with one hand. "We have to do it, so so do you!"

Tamara decided then and there that Milton would no longer be invited to any parties, texted, sexted, or sat next to at lunch. Dickhead!

"But it _hurts!_" she wailed, in full drama-queen swing. "You're just mean to me because you're jealous of my beauty!" She wanted to clap a hand over her mouth as she realized what she'd just said, but it was too late.

Aguni cocked her head, laughing, "Yes dear, that's _exactly _it. I want to be a flat-chested teenybopper with enough eyeshadow to cover a window. Tamara, I am attempting to mold you into the best you can be, and you'll thank me later in life, I can guarantee it!"

Tamara had _had_ it. Just because Aguni had bigger boobs and naturally exotic eyes didn't mean she could insult Tamara Koumokuten like that! She had to be made to pay, and who did she think she was, anyway?

"You're such a harpy!" she screeched, pointing at her gym teacher like she was denouncing a witch. "We should call you 'Ms. SHEMALE'!"

As the rest of the class skidded to a halt and gaped, Aguni just gave her a wicked grin and purred, "You'll be able to call me 'Mom' soon, dear. Now stop faking leg cramps."

Tamara stared for a full ten seconds, then finally managed, "What?"

"Your father and I are getting married," Aguni informed her breezily, and Cindia sat down with a thud. "Didn't he tell you? He said he'd call you this morning. Perhaps he was still sleeping in, poor wearied man. He did exert himself an awful lot the night before," she murmured, stroking her chin in thought.

Tamara's eyes were the size of dinner plates as she choked out, "_You?_ And _Daddy?_ Getting… MARRIED?!"

Aguni patted her on the head as Wade snapped his fingers in "She's off the market" teenage angst, and confirmed, "Yes, dear. I'm quite surprised you never noticed anything. Why, one would think his sudden desire to run off during the evenings would have clued you –"

"NOOO!" Tamara screamed, in the tradition of movie villainesses everywhere. "NOOOO!"

It took three school nurses to calm her down… and that was half an hour later.

.

When Koumokuten showed up at school to collect his shell-shocked daughter and take her home, one of the nurses managed a quavered, "Congratulations on your – on your engagement, Mr. Koumokuten."

"Why thank you, Ms…" He looked for a nametag, didn't see one, and finished lamely with, "I'm very excited, yes."

Ms. Kimball pasted a smile on her face and continued, "The staff here is, um, awaiting with great anxiety whether or not Ms. Steel will be a, er, stay-at-home wife." This was hopeful, "Please God please" anxiety, but Koumokuten took it the other way. After all, he liked Aguni so the world should too.

"Don't worry," he smiled as they walked back to the nurse's office, "Aguni wants to stay here, and I think that's the best thing. She'd get so bored in the mansion all day when I'm at work. She loves her job, and I certainly want my precious fire muffin to be as happy as she can!"

Ms. Kimball cringed, yelling some not at all school-appropriate words in her head. Now Aguni would probably regale them all with tales of "My new husband and I think that exercise boosts sexual stamina, and just the other day…"

She mercifully cut that thought off, opening the door to the first of the cot rooms and proclaiming, "Here she is."

Tamara was lying on her back, one hand thrown against her forehead, her face pale and her eyes closed. This was an affected pose, as she'd been pacing earlier. And swearing to beat the band, and kicking the cot. And vowing to run Aguni over with her daddy's car, which she didn't actually know how to drive.

Koumokuten sighed at the sight of her, and pointed out, "Princess? That usually works better if you don't have your phone in your other hand. Just a tip."

Ms. Kimball smirked as Tamara pouted, caught in the act of trying to get sympathy. Ha, the little bitch had been called out on her BS. She'd probably been texting away when she heard footsteps, and forgotten to even close the thing, snicker.

"Daddy," the teenager whined, opening her eyes and belatedly closing her phone, "Daddy, how could you do this to me?! She's _evil!_"

"No Tamara, you mean 'wonderful,' " Koumokuten corrected, crossing to the cot. "I know the two of you aren't friends, and yes I should have told you earlier, but honey, Aguni and I are in passionate, world-burning, mutually obsessed love."

"How?!" she demanded. "You don't know the real her!"

Her father gave her a quizzical look and replied, "I think you have our knowledge of Aguni reversed there, sweetheart. For example, I know she likes pit bulls and wrestling, and also writing poetry."

Tamara gaped, surprised at that last bit, and weakly tried, "Are the poems about violence?"

"A few," he admitted, "but you'd be surprised how many are about romantic love, life, and musings on the fleeting nature of beauty."

Tamara was still not very mollified, and demanded, "Daddy, when did this start? It had to have been at least five months ago, because that was when you started sneaking out of the house."

"Tamara," Koumokuten snapped, "I'm the homeowner, so I can't sneak. Unlike you and your little trellis adventure, I used the door in broad daylight." Except for the late-night, garage-roof ninja techniques, but she didn't know about those so he wasn't about to bring them up.

"You're not answering my question," she snapped back, crossing her arms. "How did this awful situation come about?"

"Well," he remembered, "when I met her in October, we hit it off at once, so when I saw her on the bike trail we climbed a tree together. We went out for cider, and found out we were a lot alike. So we went to dinner a couple times, and then we –" _had sex in the living room,_ "– fell in love. Yesterday I asked her to marry me, because living apart from her is torture, Princess, and it was high time I had a consort again."

Tamara's mouth dropped open again. So in a way… "Are you saying that if you'd never had that meeting, you wouldn't even know who she is?" she asked, feeling another round of hysteria coming on.

He considered for a moment, then reassured her, "No baby girl, I would have met her eventually anyway, I'm sure. But I'm glad we didn't have to waste any time."

Ms. Kimball, who had been listening to all this with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide, suddenly saw a problem. She cut in, "Mr. Koumokuten sir, Rosehedge Academy frowns on family members teaching family members. Tamara will have to be transferred to another –"

"School?" said girl asked hopefully. After all, she'd never live this down here. She could hear the taunts now: _"Tamara's stepmom is Psycho Steel!" _And, _"Hey Tamara, did she put a collar on your dad at the wedding?" _Or, _"I'm sorry I can't go out with you, Tamara… your stepmother's class drained me of all desire for women. I'm becoming a homosexual."_

Ms. Kimball had been about to say "gym class," but suddenly a consolation prize was in sight. Tamara was the worst patient ever, and so arrogant the nurse wanted to scream. If Tamara transferred to another school, her life would be much, much easier.

Koumokuten studied his daughter and tried to confirm, "Sweetie, do you _really _want to change schools? I mean, it's April, and all your friends are –"

"I'll make new ones," she replied rather snappishly. "I make friends wherever I go." Which wasn't exactly true; rather, she bullied people who sucked up to make her stop it wherever she went. Of course, most of them were just as mean as she was, so it worked.

He wavered, and she pressed her advantage with, "I'll be seeing Ms. Steel – Aguni – at home all the time anyway, and I think it'll be awkward to see her during school too, Daddy. I'll need some time to _adjust_, and it'll be good for me to have a place where it's only me, not her and me."

"Okay honey," he soothed, "I'll transfer you the minute I can."

Tamara beamed at him in extreme relief, and replied, "Thanks, Daddy. Um, I do think I'll need some quiet time in my room, and maybe…" she used the pathetic voice, "maybe some cake?"

"All right Tamara," Koumokuten agreed, "I'll have Edward order you a nice big pink-frosted cake once I drop you off at home. Minnie can pick it up, I called her and she'll be there."

"Thanks, Daddy!" she chirped, having decided that he wouldn't break off his engagement, so all she could do was be bitchy to Aguni and milk this for all it was worth. "Make sure the cake has cherries on top," she ordered as they walked out of the nurse's office.

Ms. Kimball watched them go, closed the door, and did a happy dance.

.

It was a stunningly gorgeous July day. The sun was shining, the sky was a clear, cloudless azure, the church was bedecked with flowers, and Zouchouten was tugging at his tuxedo collar. Being the best man sucked. He'd lost the coin toss between him and Bishamonten (Koumokuten had viewed it as "won," and ordered Zouchouten to trim his sideburns), and he'd had to suffer through planning and rehearsals. And he'd decided that Aguni was Satan in a white dress. Leaving that aside…

"Their vows," he'd lamented to Bishamonten over a pint after the rehearsal. "Oh God, their vows…"

"Simply dreadful," Bishamonten had agreed. As a groomsman he'd had to suffer too, although not to Zouchouten's extent. After all, Zouchouten had to make a toast without yelling, "I want that woman to burn in Hell!"

Now, in the real deal, the minister asked, "Do you, Aguni Catherine, take this man, Xavier Adolf, to be your lawfully wedded husband…"

In one of the pews Kisshouten smiled, catching her own husband's eye, and thought, _See Reginald… it's okay. Even Xavier wouldn't mess with the –_

"…To carry from the battlefield should he stumble, to ignite the flame of union between you, to protect and be protected in equal measure," the minister intoned, smiling the smile of a woman who's already got the check, "to stay beside in times of peace and in times of conflict… as long as you both shall live?"

As Aguni assured the world that she did, Zouchouten smiled fixedly. Oh God, they were going through with it. He'd really hoped that at the last minute Koumokuten would come to his senses, but he seemed just as insensate as before. Damn. Well, maybe he'd be so wrapped up in his new wife that he'd become a bit nicer to the rest of the world?

While Minister Jones asked Koumokuten if he'd reciprocate Aguni's devotion, Tamara closed her eyes. She couldn't watch.

"I _do_," he grinned, as Bishamonten sighed in resignation. Taishakuten just smiled proudly; after all, here was a consort for one of his Generals who appreciated the dangerous jungle of the world, and had already told the CEO on numerous occasions that he was wonderful, "but of course I love Xavier, ha-ha-ha!"

When passionate liplock ensued on the altar, Vahyu dabbed at his eyes affectedly and sighed, "It's so perfect, huh Edward?"

Varuna said nothing, his mouth still hanging open. That woman would produce demon children, and then Koumokuten would insist that his assistant had to take care of them! And there would be three, because bad things always came in threes. They'd kick his shins and pull his hair, and say things like, "Daddy thays you're a thtupid lummoxth!" and, "Mommy thays to always go for the ballth!"

Seated far to the back, Karura, oddly enough, smiled and clapped just as hard as Aguni's family. Just because Aguni had sneered at her as a "mere assistant," it didn't mean two people weren't exceedingly happy right now. As a somewhat unhappy person herself, Karura wouldn't begrudge anyone else their joy.

Kujaku, wearing a purple Mickey Mouse tie, gave Karura a run for her money in clapping and smiling. Awesome, newlyweds, right on! He thought this was great, because now Koumokuten could be somewhat less of a bastard with _someone. _And weddings were always fun anyway.

Yasha clapped mechanically, frowning. Why was Kujaku so pleased about this? Then Bishamonten's assistant realized that for two whole weeks, Koumokuten would be out of the office and in Fiji! So he clapped extra hard and even smiled.

The organ was played, the rice was thrown, the congratulations were congratulated. Tamara fidgeted and picked each petal off her bouquet, thinking to herself that fire-colored roses were just stupid. When she was a bride and not the maid of honor, she'd have pale _pink _roses like a normal person.

"Well, son-in-law," Reba smiled, making an effort, "when can I expect, um, grandchildren?"

"Never," Koumokuten told her bluntly, snuggling Aguni to his side. "We've decided a kid would cramp our style, right precious?"

"Yes darling," she giggled back, then smirked at her mother. "I have no time for a baby, not to mention that I'd get out of shape! An out-of-shape gym teacher is a pitiable thing, Mom. Besides, we have _dear_ Tamara," she grinned, rather evilly.

Dear Tamara tried to sneak a drink of wine at the reception, but alas, Aguni's gimlet eye was on the alert. She snatched it out of her stepdaughter's hands, but to her credit didn't lecture her in front of all the guests.

_Marriage mellows you, _she thought proudly as Tamara sighed and drank more sparkling juice.

As her father and new stepmother danced to Cheap Trick's "The Flame," Tamara sighed again. Okay, so she was no longer Koumokuten's number-one, most important female. Okay, she'd have to get used to all those scented candles. And okay, she could no longer go through her dad's bedroom drawers looking for presents, because she might find something she could never unsee.

But she was still getting attention. And she was going to be alone in the mansion for two whole weeks, except for Minnie of course, but she could handle Minnie. And most importantly… Koumokuten was ridiculously happy, and ridiculously happy Koumokuten could be hit up for more extravagant gifts!

Tamara beamed, and plotted what she could guilt him into buying her.

.

.

(AN: As Rudra and Deva literally show up to get killed in the manga, they're blank slates I can run rampant over, save for their appearances of course. Since Deva's the Earth God, I made him stony and slow to react. Rudra was more fun to write though, as he was much more neurotic as Deva's opposite. Ha, Koumokuten's driven him to modern art.

And no, I don't for a minute think actual spousal murder is funny, c'mon now. But since we only saw "Melissa" in an omake and she seemed like an older Tamara, I could make her ridiculously bitchy. I do love Koumokuten's line of "Actually, I sent Melissa to Hell," because he vows to send the rebels to Hell, then repeats it just for Yasha.

Sorry if I scarred your minds with Koumokuten and Aguni's ridiculous pet names for each other. "Studly sex sorcerer"? Eek. Oh, and Pele is the Hawai'ian fire goddess who resides in a volcano. And of course there's no such thing as a Mitsubishi Hellspawn [that hood ornament was totally one of Koumie's little demon summons from Volume Eight]. On a historical note, Aguni's middle name comes from Catherine the Great of Russia, who I always thought was kind of badass. Koumokuten's middle name, of course, should need no explanation. I wasn't trying to offend anyone, really!

Next up: Ryuu and his cousins, in a mash-up of evil dermatology clinic directors, 1337-speech, and dads who bake cupcakes and gun for a domestic TV show. And an Ashura cameo, yay!)


	3. Rock On

**Chapter Three: Rock On**

_Ryuu's high school sucks, Seiryuu thinks computer viruses are the devil, and Hakuryuu never wants to see his boss again. Drums, electric guitars, and a soundproof place to practice help an awful lot._

.

.

(AN: No real romance here, just humor. The first person to suggest I should have made this a gay, incestuous threesome will be beaten to death with guitars, thank you. Isn't it amazing what the fan mind will find acceptable?

It's a tragedy we didn't see more of Ryuu's cousins in the manga, they were cool. Well, there's lots of them here! So prepare for dermatologist [er, dermatology resident] Hakuryuu, hacker/programmer Seiryuu, and Shashi thinking Haku and Sei _are_ secret gay lovers. Plus Ryuu dealing with jocks, a soldier mom, and a dad who wants to be the next Martha Stewart.

I should point out that I am not a musician, dermatologist, or computer programmer, and while I've done some research on those fields there might be mistakes. If so, please point them out to me!

Other warnings: innuendo, adult language, and video game babe and Dragon Tribe fanservice. That's about it, really. And brief bashing on One Direction, but hopefully most of you will be able to laugh at it. Plus another Lady Gaga song! If "Adele" proper was all about "Someone Like You" and a "Set Fire to the Rain" cameo, "Side Stories" turned out to be a Lady Gaga-inspired fic. Let's see which one I used.)

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.

(April 18th, 2012)

Shashi Prince disliked the new neighbors already. They'd moved in just today, and she could already tell that they were bad news. She'd watched with horror as the brunette cheerfully carried in a subwoofer and the (white) blonde equally cheerfully carried in its twin, and her eyes had practically popped out of their sockets when they each carried in another one. Oh God, they were deviants who would keep her up at night with their electric guitars, and imbibe copious amounts of drugs, and have women over for orgies! It would be like living next to… to the Grateful Dead!

_I live in this neighborhood so I don't have to deal with hoodlums, and these idiots move in next door?! How did they even afford it? Maybe they're actually drug dealers too, and will try to get Tenou hooked on crack, and I'll have to deal with them vandalizing my house when a trip goes bad and they think it's the castle that hides some sort of Day-Glo monster._

So she did _not_ go over later, despite their invitation. But when her son Tenou came home from school, he noticed the lights on in the house to the right, and curiously asked, "Did the new neighbors move in? Have you met them?"

"Yes," she said shortly. "Now Tenou dear, have a healthy snack and go do your homework."

He would not be deterred, and insisted on asking, "Are they nice? How many are there? Do they have any kids?" Maybe he could play with them if they were little kids, because Tenou adored children.

His mother sighed, "They seem very outgoing, there are two, and they both think that," she made air quotes, " 'the population is out of control already.' "

He nodded seriously and proclaimed, "Smart people. What are their names?"

"Hakuryuu and Seiryuu Waters. They're apparently of Japanese descent, even though Hakuryuu's got white hair and Seiryuu's got blue eyes. They're brothers," she explained to her slightly confused son.

She thought it was strange that they were brothers and lived together. Shouldn't it be one of them and a wife or girlfriend? Maybe there was some gay incest going on, she sneered in her head. If so, she'd call the police the minute she had confirmation. Such filthy activities could not be allowed to continue, not when she lived next door!

Tenou seemed to think fraternal roommates was cool. After all, he was an only child who'd never dealt with the trials of siblings, unlike his mother. He cheerfully said, "Neat. They must be really close."

"I'll bet they are," she muttered, imagining Hakuryuu and Seiryuu writhing around wearing only those stupid headbands. Sick. Male/male got into some things that were pretty gross, and incest was illegal for a number of very good reasons.

"Can I go over and meet them?" Tenou asked innocently.

Shashi, who refused to let her son get caught up in homoeroticism, thought fast and came up with, "Honey, they just moved in! Let them unpack. I'm sure you'll meet them soon enough," she smiled, vowing to keep him away from the demon neighbors.

As she climbed into bed later that night, she sighed. They probably weren't incestuous deviants, but she didn't like them anyway.

.

Seiryuu and Hakuryuu Waters liked their next-door neighbor Shashi already. They'd introduced themselves on her doorstep, and her suspicions had gone right over their handsome little heads. They were under the mistaken impression that she would soon be their pal, and then they could all share some baked goods and frosty drinks in neighborly bliss.

"She seems very confident," Seiryuu mused, setting down water for Mikey, Mittens, and Muffin as all three cats crowded around the dish. "Too bad she didn't come over, I would've liked to meet her son."

Hakuryuu shrugged, "She probably forgot. I'm sure we'll see them soon."

He set down the cat food, and each cat abandoned the water and made a beeline for their dry food bowls. Aw, cats were so cute! He stroked Muffin's back, then straightened up.

"Sei, I'm setting my alarm clock for very early tomorrow, so we can continue unpacking as soon as possible," he said, like a man making a humongous sacrifice for the good of an ungrateful world. Just call him "Mr. Martyr."

Seiryuu lit up, because Hakuryuu's fondness for sleeping in was legendary. Ever since he was a toddler and had to be woken up to go to ECFE, according to their mother, it had been an uphill struggle to get him awake when he was still tired. His alarm clock featured a blaring squeal that Seiryuu thought was like some sort of air raid siren, but it worked.

"Awesome," Seiryuu smiled. "Five? Five-thirty? Six?"

Hakuryuu gave him an incredulous look, and huffed, "Good heavens no, idiot. Seven." Even martyrs had to draw the line somewhere, after all.

As they bickered good-naturedly, Muffin finished her food, Mikey stole some of Mittens' food, and Mittens swatted him lightly. Light-haired Daddy and Dark-haired Daddy both scolded, "Be nice," then returned to their argument over what time to get up tomorrow.

"Haku, c'mon! We have a ton of stuff to unpack," Seiryuu cajoled. "You used to have to get up really early when you were in medical school!"

This was true. Our boy – er, man – Hakuryuu Waters was currently in his first year of residency for dermatology. He was twenty-seven years old, and he'd always known he was going to be some sort of doctor. Unlike Shashi, who'd desired the same thing for the prestige and high paycheck, Hakuryuu honestly wanted to help humanity, and was fascinated by medicine anyway.

"I get up early now too," he huffed to his younger brother. "I get up at seven-thirty! I _want _to sleep until nine-thirty or later, but I make myself wake up. Be _grateful _that I'm giving up a whole half-hour of much-needed sleep tomorrow!"

"Haku," Seiryuu said firmly, "the more boxes there are around, the more chance I have of tripping over them. You know how I lack your natural grace!"

"It goes beyond lack of natural grace," Hakuryuu muttered. "You, my dear Sei, are clumsy. A klutz, a walking accident, a bull in a china shop around knickknacks, and a danger to vases and yourself. And the cats never try to twine around your ankles, because they know that their tails or paws will get stepped on, or they'll be kicked or tripped over. Not on purpose, but it's still true."

"Not my fault!" Seiryuu protested. "It's a… well, maybe it's an inner ear thing."

"It is _not_," was Hakuryuu's smug response. "Every physical you have, you have them check your inner ears, and they're always perfectly fine. You just don't pay attention, and it shows."

"My point, before you started with the me bashing, was that the quicker we get this stuff in place, the less chance I have of hurting myself, or accidentally breaking something. Nathan's coming over after school tomorrow, but c'mon, we've got tons of stuff to put away, and if I have to slave away while you snooze, I'm going to – to play One Direction as loud as I can to wake you up!" Seiryuu threatened.

Those were fighting words. Hakuryuu hated One Direction; they both did, but the white-haired brother hated them more. Their lyrics could have been written by ten-year-olds: "Baby you light up my world like nobody else – The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed"? Hakuryuu thought hair could in fact be sexy, his certainly was, but it should have been "overwhelms me," not "gets me overwhelmed." Their songwriter had obviously been trying to make it rhyme, but they'd failed miserably.

Hakuryuu and Seiryuu despised such schmaltzy pop, because… they were disciples of ROCK. They both played electric guitar, and from the 1960s to the 2010s, anything that had wailing guitars, good lyrics, drums over drum machines, and inspired an emotional response other than "EEEEE!" from fourteen-year-old girls was something they liked.

Jimi Hendrix? He was a god. Sid Vicious? Bad personal life, good music. Melissa Etheridge? They adored her. Van Halen? They were fans. Nirvana? Seiryuu was currently wearing a Kurt Cobain shirt. Seether? Loved 'em. Flyleaf? Hakuryuu once wrote Lacey some fan mail. They _could_ handle pop and sometimes liked it, but it had to be _good _pop.

Seiryuu had a couple of Backstreet Boys albums, and Hakuryuu would admit to having 'N Sync's "Bye Bye Bye" on his iPod and singing along. But those were _decent_ boy bands, which still weren't their favorites by a long shot. If they had to listen to a boy band these days, the Wanted was the lesser of a myriad of evils, but they'd still rather Amy Lee make a fifth Evanescence album.

So Hakuryuu snarled, "Don't you threaten me! We'll compromise: six-_forty-five_. Happy?"

"I guess," Seiryuu sighed, giving in because he knew from experience that if he pushed it, Hakuryuu would revert to seven and refuse to budge. At least this way, there were fifteen more minutes of work to be done, even though Seiryuu would probably be up by five-thirty. Oh well… the cats would love him even more, since he'd be the only one around to get attention from.

He looked around this most marvelous new living room. It was huge, as such spaces went, and here was the best thing… like all the downstairs and basement rooms, it was soundproof! That had been the clinching selling point for 2283 Royalty Drive, and he was so glad they'd been able to afford it.

It was indeed odd that two young men had been able to buy this soundproof dream home. But thanks to wealthy parents and high allowances since five years old, full scholarships to college and medical school, a natural inclination to save, and some savvy investment banking, put Hakuryuu and Seiryuu together and you had a rich man. The house had eaten up most of their funds and would for years, but they could handle it.

They'd actually always lived together. They'd shared a room as kids, and had an nice apartment, and neither really saw any reason to change this arrangement. They'd made the solemn vow that if either of them ever found a woman to move in with, the other one wouldn't whine and would of course always be a backup plan if the wife/fiancée/whatever fell through.

Hopefully that wouldn't happen for a while, Seiryuu grinned as he unpacked yet another box. This house was great, and he'd be bummed if he ever had to leave it. Well, at least he'd get to visit, and their cousin could just move in with Hakuryuu so he wouldn't get lonely.

And oh boy… when the music room was set up, they could all rock out as loud as they wanted! YES!

.

"And who can tell me the correct, _Egyptian _name for the deity widely known by the Greek 'Anubis'?" the high-school history teacher prompted at eight-forty-two the next morning.

Nathan Ryuu knew that! He shot his hand up as fast as he could. He'd been practicing, and he'd gotten extra quick lately. At the syllables "Anu–" he'd gone into action, because if he didn't, a certain someone would beat him to it. But alas, he wasn't fast enough, and Mr. Kaiser smiled, "Suki. Please, what is Anubis's proper name?"

"The jackal-headed god of mummification's proper name in the language of Kemet, or Ancient Egypt, is 'Anpu,' " a tiny girl with glasses, a pageboy haircut, and exotic almond eyes smiled.

Suki Kazuhiko was that student who teachers loved but everybody else hated: the genius, who did extra credit assignments even with an A-plus-plus average, and had no concept of the fact that other people wanted a chance to answer too. Which of course made her despised by those who wanted a good grade, and mocked by those who were just here because they had to be.

Ryuu glared at the bane of his existence. He was a very smart himself, studied hard, and was losing much-needed credit in this class because Suki kept hogging all of Mr. Kaiser's attention. Bitch!

A good teacher would have realized that every student should be given the chance to show off their knowledge, but Mr. Kaiser was of the opinion that Suki's answers were college-level, and as such would illuminate the subject better to the lesser mortals of "Ancient History: The Middle East and Mediterranean." So who cared if they knew the basic material, because Suki knew more.

Ryuu doodled a little dragon breathing fire onto a chibi with a pageboy haircut and glasses, and wondered why he even bothered. Mr. Kaiser graded on a curve, and Ryuu aced all quizzes, tests, and projects, but he was still trailing Suki in classroom participation. It was ludicrous, how Mr. Kaiser demanded it but never gave anyone else a chance.

The one day this entire year that Suki had been sick, Ryuu had answered any and all questions asked of him with perfect aplomb. Ziggurats? He knew them cold. The code of Hammurabi? Ditto. Inanna the moon goddess? Why, she was like family!

One would have thought this, and the way most of the other students fervently waved their hands in the air as well, would have tipped Mr. Kaiser off that his methods were near-criminal. But no. By now, Ryuu was the only other student who bothered trying to raise his hand. Everybody else had given up on the classroom discussion portion of their grade and either daydreamed, texted each other, took notes on what Suki said, or surreptitiously did math homework.

Ryuu wanted to turn his desk over some days, and yell, "She's not the only person who studies! _I _know all about Khufu too!" He also wanted to trip her when she passed him in the hallway carrying a stack of books, because while not every teacher was like Mr. Kaiser, that know-it-all still got better grades than he did.

Ryuu privately wanted to punch the grade system. He knew the material, and he would get into a great college, but being a competitive young man he despaired at being second-place all the time. He had to be the best so he could win at life!

He amused himself for the rest of first period by fantasizing about challenging Suki to a boxing match. He'd come out swinging, and his rage would carry the day! Then he could hoist his gloves in the air and crow, "I am the greatest!" like a much shorter, redheaded, and not-black Muhammad Ali.

His next class was also a Suki class: chemistry. He was happy that nobody wanted to be her lab partner… but nobody wanted to be his either. Ryuu wasn't exactly cut out for the high school scene, since he thought sports were just games, he thought small talk and gossip were indicative of a weak mind, and he didn't "play well with others," to quote a school counselor.

Today wasn't a lab day, which meant he wasn't randomly assigned a partner, which made him happy. Last time he'd had to do an experiment with the jock from Hell, his worst enemy Craig Dobson.

The guy was everything jocks were stereotyped as, and more. He was stupid, but good at athletics so the school officials let him get away with things. Which only added to his entitlement complex and arrogance, both of which were constantly on display. And because this was high school, instead of being seen as a rock-headed jerk, he was seen as someone to emulate and praise by the majority of the other students.

He was, of course, very good-looking. Tall, wavy blond hair, a strong jaw and very built, he had all sorts of girls panting after him and wasn't hurting for compliments to stoke his attention-whoring personality. And to complete the stereotype, he was a bully.

Nerds were his preferred targets, but he also liked picking on the outsiders, like Ryuu. Why didn't that short little nobody worship Craig like everyone else? Why didn't he acknowledge the greatness that was a star quarterback, instead of sneering at him? Society was surely built by the great people like Craig, not the little nerds who knew how to do other things than play football and be mean.

And that day at lunch, just like always, he picked on Ryuu.

"Hey Shrimpy," he smirked, backed up by his posse, "make sure to eat your veggies, they make you grow!"

As everyone else laughed like this was a genius joke, Ryuu rolled his eyes and snapped, "You must be so proud of your clever, rapier wit, Craig. Go sit down at your table, and leave me alone at mine."

"Of course you eat alone," Craig sneered. "Nobody wants to be seen with your dorky self! You and that nerdy Suki are the only people in this lunchroom who're so uncool nobody wants to be seen with them."

Ooh, now Ryuu was mad. Comparing him to that bitch? Craig was goin' down.

"I'm not like that loser," he replied, his words dripping with scorn. "She can't do anything but memorize things. _I _can play drums, and she –"

"You play drums?" one of the other jocks asked, sounding a bit impressed despite himself. "Really?"

Craig glared at him, and said loftily, "Anyone can play drums, Joey. You just hit 'em with sticks! No melody at all. Even _you _could play drums, so of _course _Peewee here can play 'em."

Here he was only semi-correct. Drums didn't utilize melody it was true, but they utilized _rhythm_, and were in fact hard to play. Drum kits, at least; anyone could play simple drums like bongos, although they'd need a little practice to actually do it well. But to play drums while somebody else was singing and you were keeping time with a bass and a couple guitars… that took skill, and Ryuu knew it even if they didn't.

So he just sighed, "That just goes to show what a moron you are, Craig. Anyway, go back to your table, I think the cheerleaders are lonely."

That was how it went. Unlike most people, Ryuu didn't internalize such insults and nastiness, and today had been rather tame. No, he was confident enough to know that he was a worthwhile person, and held onto the knowledge that once he graduated, things would be much better. Just the end of this year and two more, and he'd be free.

He finished his school day, strode to the car that his dad so nicely let him use, and took a moment to read the directions off Mapquest that he'd gotten from school to his cousins' new house. Hakuryuu and Seiryuu were counting on him to help them unpack, and he wasn't about to let them down.

He loved his cousins. Yeah they could be bossy, and clumsy, and snotty, and annoying, and nosy, and easily angered and even mean sometimes, but they were family. And probably his best friends, since he didn't have anyone else he was really close to in the social sphere. He could tell them anything, and they wouldn't judge… well, at least not _too _much.

He found their house, and whistled in appreciation. It was a mansion! And from what they'd told him it even had a pool, which made him happy. No more public pools for this boy, because his family had a private one! No more worrying about what little kids had done in the water, because there wouldn't be any around.

"Hey guys!" he called, pushing the unlocked front door open. "Uh… dudes, where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen!" Hakuryuu called.

"I'm in the dining room!" Seiryuu bellowed.

"Mrr?" Muffin asked, from atop a box labeled "Sei's Anime Collection."

"Purrrr…" Mittens rumbled, from a comfy chair.

"Mew! Mew! Mew!" Mikey greeted, bounding over from under the kitty jungle gym.

"Well at least the _cats _have good manners when a visitor comes," Ryuu muttered under his breath, picking Mikey up. "I swear, for somebody who's always harping on me for being rude, Haku has some nerve. Sei I expect this sort of thing from, but not –"

"Hey! I'm here now, aren't I?!" a shirtless Seiryuu protested, stalking into the living room and dusting his hands. "I was holding a big box, dumbass. Would you prefer I drop the nice plates and break 'em? I can't win with you people," he lamented with exaggerated pathos, throwing a hand to his forehead with an overdone sigh.

Coming in from the kitchen, an open-shirted Hakuryuu snapped, "Nathan, I was busy. Now have a cookie and stop whining." He held a plate of M & M cookies out, and Ryuu obediently snatched one.

Ah, that was another nice thing about coming over here, the way they fed him. Of course he got fed at home, but it was so easy to sneak extras here. At home the treats were often for this or that conference, or presentation, or what have you, and while Hakuryuu did make baked goods and such to bring into work sometimes, mostly they were for home use – er, home devouring, really.

After Hakuryuu set the plate of cookies on the coffee table, they all took seats around it. Most of the boxes had been cleared out of the living room by now, but Ryuu had no illusions that the unpacking was near to being complete. Heck, some people found themselves unpacking boxes years later!

"So how'd your essay on Cthulhu turn out?" Seiryuu asked, smiling at his cousin.

"Khufu, you fool," Hakuryuu corrected, crossing his arms. "Not Cthulhu, _Khufu. _The man who built the Great Pyramid in Egypt, not the Lovecraftian squid demon. Sheesh. Grow a brain, my inferior brother."

Seiryuu frowned a bit, and shot back, "That was Cheops, numbnuts. I paid attention in History, thank you! And _he _didn't build it, he just had his architects and all those peasants do it for him. So there."

"You're both right," Ryuu hastened to reply, before the insults started really flying, and somebody got their hair pulled or a punch to the face. "His Egyptian name was Khufu, but the Greeks called him 'Cheops' and that's how most people know him. It's nutty, and did you know that Osiris's actual name was Ausar? And –"

"Oh, like dub anime," Seiryuu nodded, fully understanding this now. "You know, where they change the characters' Japanese names to 'American'-sounding ones. But guess what 4-Kids, I'm American and _I _have a Japanese first name!"

Before conversation could devolve into the standard rant about how Mai from "Yu-Gi-Oh!" should have won more Duels, Hakuryuu snapped, "On a more important and scholarly scale, yes. To return to the original question, how did your essay on _Khufu _turn out, Nathan?"

"Good. Maybe great, hopefully. But guys, listen, I – Mikey! NO!"

The youngest cat, the orange one with the fluffy tail and eyes that made him look like he belonged in some sort of cartoon, was chewing on the box labeled "Haku's Books: A – D." He had a habit of chewing on cardboard, and the shelter worker who'd taken him in had said that when they'd found him abandoned in a box as a kitten, he'd been chewing on that one too. Maybe he'd been really hungry, or maybe he just liked how it felt on his teeth, but he'd never grown out of it. He didn't _eat_ the cardboard, just spat it out and made a mess.

So Hakuryuu reached for the spray bottle they'd prepared for just this contingency, and proceeded to discipline the kitty.

"NO! NO! We don't do that, Mikey!" he scolded, as Mikey took off like a shot, shaking his head at the water.

Mittens started purring again, a bit smugly. She was the slow, silent type, a Maine Coon mix who sometimes got annoyed at the exuberant and always playful Mikey. She too was from the shelter, because Hakuryuu volunteered there and had since high school. Mittens had been the first cat he'd brought home at age eighteen, three years old and very attached to him already.

Muffin was a shelter cat as well. She was a purebred brown Rex, but like many people who bought a pet without researching what they entailed, her prior owners had gotten fed up with her peculiarities and gotten rid of her. She was Seiryuu's cat, although of course she liked Hakuryuu too. And yes, she'd come with the name, because Seiryuu would have named her "Lady Eboshi" after his favorite anime character.

"So guys," Ryuu asked as he scratched Muffin under her chin, "is the music room all set yet? Can we play soon?"

"Unfortunately not," Hakuryuu sighed. "And I think we may have to rearrange a few things, even after we try playing, just to see the acoustics and perhaps get the amps and such into better positions. But rest assured Nathan, the band will rise again."

Their band's name was Dragon Tribe, and while they had no illusions that they would ever be icons, they had produced a few albums and knew what they were doing. Hakuryuu was the unofficial frontman, although he and Seiryuu switched off the lead vocals and lead guitar. Ryuu, the drummer, had come up with the name, and as such got the stage moniker of "Dragon King."

Hakuryuu was appropriately enough "White Dragon," Seiryuu was appropriately enough "Blue Dragon," and Kim, their old bassist, had been "Dragon Babe." But unfortunately, Kim had recently decided that she would take a job out of state, and reluctantly informed the rest that they'd have to get a new bassist. They had advertised online for a new one, and hopefully someone worthwhile would reply. Thing was, most rockers strived to make it to the big time and spent all their time on it, while Dragon Tribe was satisfied with their jobs and school (mostly) and had other hobbies than making music. What they needed was somebody who was good, but laid-back.

After a bit more chitchat, Hakuryuu demonstrated how bossy he was by laying out a plan of attack for the unpacking. Being used to his Type-A personality, Seiryuu and Ryuu went along with it, although Ryuu sometimes rebelled, he was good at rebelling. But today, it was all cool.

Finally Ryuu's time was up, and he regretfully excused himself with a grumbled, "I have homework. But I'll be over in a couple days again, 'kay?"

"Of course. Study hard, and you'll come out on top," Hakuryuu encouraged, smugly thinking of his own valedictorian coup. "And then you can go to a good college, and a good graduate school, and contribute to society, just like –"

"I don't wanna be a doctor, I've told you that! Sheesh." Ryuu then did a Hakuryuu impression, adopting a haughty tone of voice for, " 'Look at me, inferior relatives! I went to medical school! I know all about skin cells! Sei and Nathan, bow before my knowledge!' "

"HA! He does you to a 'T,' " Seiryuu smirked, as Hakuryuu snapped, "That was not funny. Not at all."

.

When Ryuu got home, the house smelled like baked goods. Uh-oh. It often did, but every time, that brought a monologue on baking, then homemaking, then equal rights, then all that was wrong with society today. So he closed the back door as quietly as he could, tiptoed through the back hallway, the study, and the living room, and almost made it to the stairs before he encountered one of his parents, holding a tray and grinning.

"Son," Alexander Ryuu said proudly, "I just made lemon cupcakes with raspberry filling! Here, try one!" And with that, he shoved a treat into Ryuu's hand before the teenager could say, "No thanks Dad, I'm not hungry."

"I improved on my recipe from last time," Alexander went on. "This glaze, I'm sure you'll agree, goes better with the raspberries than the old one. Oh, and by the way son, I called the network and they said they'd received my demonstration video."

Ryuu's dad had a dream, like so many men before him. Unlike the overwhelming majority of them, however, his dream was to be the next big name in homemaking. Rachel Ray and Nate Berkus? No, they paled in comparison to his idol: that giant of domesticity, Martha Stewart.

He did it all. Interior decorating, cooking, baking, finding inventive and eco-friendly ways to clean the house and clothes, gardening, and crafts of all kinds. He had a website that was becoming very popular, and his ultimate goal was to land a cable TV show, which he had a name for already: "Mr. Mom's House." The website was mrmomzenmi (period) (comma), and it pulled in hits from all over the world, rapidly.

Instead of being pleased with his father's enthusiasm and staying true to himself despite societal pressures, though, Ryuu had gotten to the point of being embarrassed by it. When he was little, he'd thought it was really cool, but once other kids had started the teasing and other parents gave his dad weird looks, he'd begun to question its coolness.

"Dad," he said around a mouthful of cupcake, which was of course delicious, "Dad, I have lots of homework. Can I go upstairs?"

"Not before I tell you about my discovery in stain removal," Alexander seriously replied. "You see, by pure luck, I heard about the properties of –"

The phone rang then, cutting him off, and he immediately handed the tray of cupcakes off to Ryuu and dashed over to it, saying happily, "I'll bet that's your mother! She said she'd be calling around this time. And yes, judging by the caller ID, it is! Oh happy day!"

Ryuu rolled his eyes at this phrase, as Alexander crooned, "Hello, Dragon Queen. How's everything over in Afghanistan? …Well of course they're still blowing each other up, it's the land of Islam. …Oh I know that, of course I do! Honey, here, I think Nathan wants to talk to you," he grinned, and swapped the phone for the cupcakes in Ryuu's hands.

Ryuu's mother's actual name was Anna, but Alexander called her "Dragon Queen" as a term of endearment, and it had stuck. Apparently even her commanding officers called her that now. Hakuryuu had funnily enough dubbed her "Auntie Dwagon" at age one, and had been very confused when Grandpa informed him that her name was in fact "Anna."

"Nathan honey," she said brightly now, "how's school going? Are you beating the pants off everyone else?"

Ryuu hesitated for a bit, then hedged, "My grades are in the top two percentage, Momma. I'm only behind some genius who's some sort of prodigy." _And I want to beat her to death with a field hockey stick._

"Excellent Nathan!" she cheered, and he could picture her pumping her fist in the air. "That's my boy! And of course you're staying safe, no parties where drugs and alcohol are involved, right sweetie?" she asked seriously, as she was big on being sober and otherwise responsible, and always had been.

"That's right," Ryuu replied with total honesty, because he was never invited to parties. And after witnessing Seiryuu's grounding for a year after he'd tried weed, Ryuu had no desire to experiment with dangerous substances.

"Good for you, Nathan," she said proudly. "I'll bet all your friends admire your example, huh?"

_Yeah Momma, the iguanas are awed by my resistance to peer pressure, _he sighed in his head, but lied, "They sure are. Anyway Momma, you heard that Haku and Sei moved, right?"

"Yes honey, I did. That was smart of them to pool their resources so they could afford their dream house. Hakuryuu said it has soundproof walls, that's fantastic. Which reminds me Nathan, how's the drumming coming along?"

"Great," Ryuu replied enthusiastically, glad that his distraction technique had worked. "I feel like a rock god already! Dad says I'm at Peter Criss level."

"Congratulations honey," Anna cooed, a far cry from her sister Linda, who'd hit the roof when her sons had shown her the new electrics they'd bought themselves. "Sweetheart, I'm so glad you can take out your aggression on the skins."

"Boy, do I," Ryuu muttered, and his mom replied, "Expressing your anger in a creative way is much better than being destructive, sweetheart. Always remember: turn your aggression into a force for good, never evil! That's the difference between us and those horrible terrorists, who –"

Before she could begin her spiel about evil, he interrupted, "Momma, don't worry! I'll always do what you taught me to. Listen, I have a ton of homework, so I've gotta say 'bye,' okay?"

"Okay, Nathan sweetheart. I love you!"

"I love you too, Momma," Ryuu replied fervently. He did. His mom was his idol, the badass macho warrior who he wanted to emulate. He did, however, find it odd that his mother was the macho one and his dad was the docile homemaker. But surely it was mostly Alexander's fault?

He handed the phone off to the docile homemaker, and as he climbed the stairs, he heard Alexander say, "Dragon Queen, the network received my video! I made sure to mention you, of course…"

Ryuu passed a family portrait in the hallway, taken back when he was three. There was his mom, clad in a pantsuit and standing with a hand on her similarly-attired husband's shoulder, the man of the house sitting down and holding their wide-eyed toddler. And yes, his tie was a pale pink.

Ryuu opened his door, which was covered in rock music posters, and surveyed his messy room, the walls of which were also covered in rock music posters. And the floor, with clothes. And books, and weights, and his rock collection, which had overflowed its box and spread to his dresser, bookshelf, and desk. And in the place of honor on the top of his bookshelf was his collection of dragon figurines. Not cutesy ones, either.

"Hey guys," he sighed, crossing to the huge reptile enclosure next to his desk. "Been another long day."

Two iguanas gazed at him with unblinking eyes, one lounging on a branch and the other lounging on that one. Wyvern was the slightly larger lizard, a female, and Draco was the smaller one, a slightly younger male. Wyvern had a habit of being the boss, which Ryuu saw as proof that his family situation wasn't so unusual at all.

See, it was just a cultural thing! Nature had Amazon females, and there were matriarchal societies, or at least there had been. So why did everybody pick on him for his dad being a "weenie"? Sure Ryuu thought it was weird too, but c'mon now. He at least never insulted his dad, who he did love an awful lot. He just… wished Alexander were a little more manly, that's all.

_I wonder, _he sighed as he pulled out his math homework, _if __my__ wife will be more badass than I am._

.

The next day found Hakuryuu back at work, sans headband and clad in pressed slacks, a nice shirt, and a lab coat. He did, however, keep his hair loose, because one could only get so far away from one's inner rocker, and since nobody had yet mandated that he tie his hair back, he'd keep it like this. Not to mention it was a great icebreaker with patients, and he'd more than once had some aging biker say, "Finally, a doc who ain't a yuppie!"

He was a very professional man at the clinic. Underarm pimples on a teenage boy who probably hadn't taken a shower for a week? He could handle it. Neurotic mothers who thought their five-year-old's knee scabs were turning into skin cancer? Ditto. Tattoo removal from an intimate area on an obese man who kept eyeing him speculatively? Oh yes, he'd made it through, thanks to professionalism.

Hakuryuu avoided hitting on patients and nurses, made sure to smile at everyone, and politely declined Dr. Bloom's offer of "Let's play golf!" (He was hopeless at golf, a true demerit in a doctor.) But for that sad fault, he was good at what he did. He'd sailed through college, he'd sailed through medical school… but he was hitting a certain reef on residency.

It wasn't that he was a bad doctor; to the contrary, patients loved him and his knowledge and bedside manner. It wasn't that he was a jerk and made the nurses and technicians hate him; they thought he was great or they ignored him. It wasn't that the other doctors found him a know-it-all upstart; they liked him too, for the most part.

It was Dr. Renbatz, the clinic director. She was _evil._

She thought he was too friendly with the nurses ("Did they go through medical school? So what do they know?"), too chit-chatty with the patients ("Who cares if the crying child likes puppies or kittens? Stickers don't grow on trees!"), and that he should be forcibly taken to a barbershop and given a buzz cut ("Only women should have long hair! You look like a hippie!")

Apparently she was mean to all residents, but everyone admitted that she really had it out for Hakuryuu. On day one she'd sneered, "I think you and your pretty-boy little self will find that you can't skate by on your looks here. And don't think if you make any mistakes that I'll be lenient."

And the worst part? She kept checking him out. Baldly, even as she was yelling at him for giving the secretaries homemade brownies. He often felt like telling her, "Dr. Renbatz, my eyes are up here." Now he knew why feminists went berserk at chauvinist pigs.

He was very, very, _very _thankful she was unaware of his home life, where he ran around with his shirt open or off and ripped jeans, and used his electric guitar "Fang" to take out his frustration about her ("Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage!"). Yes, that would make her eyes bug out for sure, especially if he were whipping his hair around in a display of masculine rebelliousness.

She would either A: take pictures to show the medical board, and bitch, "What kind of doctor tries to channel Ville Valo?" or B: take pictures to stick up on her bedroom wall and slaver over. Then make copies and turn them into the medical board, with all the associated bitching.

And just his luck… she was coming towards him now, her habitual frown on her face.

Dr. Renbatz was a middle-aged woman who always wore severe horn-rimmed glasses, her mouse-brown hair in a tight bun with not a single strand allowed to escape, and a stethoscope around her neck, even though she rarely needed it as a dermatologist. She too had a lab coat (all the doctors were required to) and always wore sensible shoes and no-nonsense pants. Even her earrings were severe – silver studs, unfailingly, ones that were polished so brightly they sparked in the light.

She was very in shape, and wore clothes that didn't emphasize her figure at all. Too bad, because she had rather a nice one, not that Hakuryuu cared to notice. He had never seen her wearing makeup, and she would smugly proclaim, "My skin's natural beauty shouldn't be covered by foundation. Unlike those who don't take care of their precious skin, I have nothing to hide whatsoever," whenever anyone asked.

"Waters," she snapped, "did you tell Cleo she was allowed to have a cookie while on the phone?"

"No ma'am," he replied, feeling just like a small boy in the presence of the principal. "Not at all, Dr. Renbatz. All I said was that she could help herself."

"Hmph. Sugar and oils contribute to bad skin, Waters. We can't have a secretary with bad skin! And she shouldn't be sneaking bites while talking to a client, either," she sniffed, as her eyes wandered down his torso.

Fighting the urge to clap his hands over her target, yell, "Don't look at me!" and run away, he tried, "Dr. Renbatz, that's not _my _fault. That was something she did herself. I certainly didn't tell her to act unprofessional, I only offered her a cookie. I didn't think she'd eat it while interacting with clients, ma'am."

"Well. Don't give her any more cookies. I suppose you think women will find a man who can bake irresistible, don't you?" she sniped, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. "Is that why you do it?"

"No ma'am," Hakuryuu answered, being mostly truthful. That wasn't the main reason he liked to bake; he just thought desserts were fun, and there was no sense buying over-processed ones at the store when you could make your own at home. However, he had to admit that a lot of former girlfriends had been just _so _impressed when he'd brought over his pecan-caramel-chocolate chip brownies. Sure some meaner women might have made fun of him, but he never dated mean women, so there.

Dr. Renbatz sighed, "I'm sure, I'm sure. No more cookies for Cleo. Got it?"

"Got it," he agreed, nodding fervently.

She continued on her way, and he continued on his, grateful that she hadn't been nastier. For someone whose profession was helping people, she sure was bitchy. Although yes, she was nicer with patients, he was pretty sure that was all an act, calculated to get more money. Well, all he had to do was suck it up and deal, and even she had to admit he was a good dermatologist. When he passed residency, he'd find a different clinic, and never have to see her and her wandering eyes again.

.

Seiryuu narrowed his eyes at his computer screen and thought, _We meet again, "Wu Ling Yao." I knew you'd stop at nothing to topple me, and your unprovoked attack was a good one. Well, my good man – or maybe woman? Whatever, I've got mad skillz, and you're nothing against them!_

He clicked a few keys, smirking. This fool would soon find out that _this_ American programmer was not to be messed with! His 1337 hacking skills would send Wu Ling Yao crying to his (her?) momma.

He thought for a second, tapped a few more keys… and grinned as a troll mage exploded onscreen. Yes, the Forcebolts of Holy Might (+300 damage, booyah!) did the trick.

Technically, one had to pay for the Forcebolts of Holy Might, a rather hefty sum of real-world money. Too bad Seiryuu's friend Brian had helped develop the MMORPG "Rage Against the Siege Tower: Expanded Mortal-Stomping Edition," and had hidden a couple cheat codes in the programming. What a shame.

Seiryuu hummed along to the victory music, watching his experience points go way, way up. He wouldn't be having any trouble from Wu Ling Yao for a while. Of course Wu would be back in a few weeks, desperately trying to catch up to "BlueDragon105's" level, but by then Seiryuu would have defeated the Orange Ogre King, nyah-nyah.

He waited for the habitual bitchfit from Wu. But this time, it was different.

"So. You think you can make my brother lose most of his best weapons, do you?"

Seiryuu frowned. Usually Wu's rants were Engrish and in ALL CAPS, WITH LOTS OF EXCLAMATION POINTS TO SHOW THAT HE WAS SERIOUS! [five more exclamation points] This one sounded like a rational human being, not a sugar-high mental patient. Clearly, his mysterious sibling was older and much more mature.

"Who're you?" Seiryuu typed, fingers flying over the keys. "It's not my fault I have better attacks. The forcebolts are available at the shop, your brother can buy them himself." For good measure, he added, "n00b."

The reply came just as quickly: "My brother is most disheartened by this loss. He's vowing to never play this game again, thanks to you."

Seiryuu considered his reply. "YES, I win!" was a little mean, and honestly, it was a _game_, they'd been trading virtual blows equally, and Wu often said things like, "You and yor Ellementl Elf SUCK COCK!" while Seiryuu contented himself with the occasional "Stop bawwwing" and "n00b." Being nasty now would be rubbing Wu's face in it.

So he typed, "That's too bad, he's good at it. C'mon, it's a game. He can level back up with some dedicated rogue-smashing."

He laughed aloud at Wu's sibling's reply: "You've messed with my family, you're going to pay. I'll make you sorry, you idiot dead man walking." And with that, the battered troll mage disappeared, its controller having logged off.

Seiryuu chuckled some more and logged off himself. Classic cyber-nastiness… insult and/or threaten, then leave or block before your opponent could reply. Oh well, break time was over anyway.

He closed his laptop, stowed it in its bag, and returned his attention to his work computer, the one sitting at his cubicle desk by all the "Far Side" printouts on the walls, and the framed pictures of the cats and the band. Unlike the majority of cubicle dwellers he didn't mind working in a little box with very little privacy, because he at least had a nice big house when he got home.

Seiryuu was a computer programmer, and he was a good one. Not an elite one, but certainly good. He knew all the languages and a ton of algorithms, kept abreast of all developments, and had honest-to-goodness _fun _with his job. And like many others, he knew how to do things that weren't entirely legal to know how to do, the Forcebolts of Holy Might were an indication of that.

Ironically enough, he worked for Tenkai Corporation, just not in the skyscraper. Nope, his workspace was in a separate facility, one where the coders got to wear casual clothes instead of suits, a lot of memos had jokes in them, and his boss had once referred to the CEO as "Arthur 'I'm a Conceited Dick' Taishakuten, but none of you heard me say that, 'kay?"

Seiryuu was a team lead, which he was proud of. Currently his team was working on debugging a new source code, and it was going well. He gave himself a little pat on the back for being such a good coder that they hadn't found many bugs so far. Some were inevitable, because nobody wrote such a complicated program and didn't make a few mistakes.

He went on with his day, and put Wu's sibling's threat out of his mind with ease. But only two days later, when he logged onto "Rage Against the Siege Tower" at home all ready to stomp some more mortals, he immediately howled, "What the fuck?!"

Where were his all his weapons? Where were all his items, his prizes? Why was his Elemental Elf suddenly clad only in a pink Speedo and an embarrassed expression?!

His account had been hacked, there was no other explanation. Somebody had logged on as him, probably picked fights with anyone and everyone, and deliberately lost. And sold some weapons and items, and modified the outfit to _this_. All his hard work… down the drain.

For a few moments he just seethed, wondering how they'd gotten the login info. Since he was incredibly cautious and never gave such things out to anyone, they'd probably had to contact the site's admins as either him or somebody with power over him, and requested that information. And then used it for nefarious purposes.

And he knew who'd done it, too. And if remembering Wu's sibling's threat hadn't been enough, there was a message waiting for him, he now noticed. And it said, "I told you you'd pay, didn't I? And guess what… this is just the beginning. Beware, BlueDragon105. – Wu Mei Fan."

Downright growling in his fury, Seiryuu proceeded to screencap all of this for evidence, and report this violation to the administrators. Hopefully he'd get at least _some _of his stuff back. He wasn't holding his breath for it to be soon, though, because this company was notoriously slow about responding to complaints. Well, Wu Ling Yao would be goin' down for this, at least. He'd get banned, and Seiryuu had to wonder why Wu Mei Fan had been so open about what he (she?) had done. Well, that just went to show that Wu Mei Fan wasn't the brightest.

Actually, he realized a week later, he/she _was_. He'd managed to send a virus through Seiryuu's email, one that took his system hostage and refused to let it go unless he paid him. And apparently, Wu Ling Yao had quit the MMORPG already, so getting him banned was nullified since his account wasn't even there anymore. ARRRGGH!

_Take a deep breath, and calm down, _Seiryuu ordered himself, after he'd immediately suspended all activity on his credit card (and bank account) for the time being, and warned everyone on his email contacts list not to open anything from "him" via Hakuryuu's computer. He could handle this. He would find a way to defeat this virus, and then… then he would mete out justice, hacker style.

Yes, he was ready to cross that line from "white hat" hacker to "black hat" hacker. So really, he was a "grey hat," but whatever. To use a Wild West analogy, it was like Wu Mei Fan had stolen his cattle, so he was about to strap on his six-shooters and hang 'im high in retaliation. But see, Seiryuu wouldn't use the guy's funds, that was getting a little too evil. No, he'd just destroy WMF's system, irreversibly. It was still illegal and very mean, but dammit, WMF had already bought himself almost five hundred dollars' worth of stuff with poor Seiryuu's money!

"You, my good man," Seiryuu promised the dialogue box on his computer that demanded a ransom, "are going to rue the day you messed with me. Say your prayers, Wu Mei Fan, 'cause your computer's days are numbered."

.

A few weeks later, he had successfully rid his PC of the virus, without having to pay that bastard. So now, he turned his attention to gathering intel on WMF. He also began developing a worm just for him, in between port scanning and such.

It was taking up an awful lot of his time, so much that Hakuryuu was getting worried about him. Surely this was unhealthy, being glued to a computer screen all day at work, and at home too. Thankfully Seiryuu managed to pry himself away when it was band practice time, but Hakuryuu found himself eating alone most nights. Well, save for the cats, who were always hopeful that he'd drop some morsel on the floor by accident.

One Saturday morning, as Hakuryuu read The Scarlet Pimpernel and Seiryuu circumvented a firewall, Shashi Prince discovered why one should always check one's ingredients before one starts baking: she'd run out of sugar for a cake, and she'd already mixed a few ingredients together. Darn. Now where would she get a cup of sugar in a pinch?

She despised the old biddy on the left (who wouldn't share because the feeling was mutual), and the neighbors across the street were out of town. So that left the rocker morons on the right. Would it be worth it, going over there and probably being subjected to whiffs of reefer and jarring music? Would they be having a party with male hookers and blow? Would some wasted tart answer the door and giggle, "Hey boys, here's somebody else to play with! Get her some gin"?

She glanced out her window, and saw no cars in front of their house. Okay, so no party or wasted tart. And they'd seemed friendly enough whenever she encountered them in the yard. And damn it all, she wanted this cake to be ready to take to her sister's house this evening, so all she had to do was beg a cup of sugar and repay them later if they demanded it. If they didn't, she got free sugar out of this.

So she grabbed a Tupperware container, marched over to the Waterses' house, and ran through her lines in her head: _"Hello deviant neighbor, I need some sugar please." Nah, they'll get mad at that, so how about, "Hello Hakuryuu and/or Seiryuu, I hate you but you could be useful." No. Well, what about, "Hello pervert, give me some baking supplies." Oh, why don't I just wing it?_

She sighed and knocked. Soon the door opened and a shirtless, jeans-clad Hakuryuu blinked, and then smiled, "Dr. Prince. Please, come in."

"Hello Hakuryuu. I was hoping to borrow some sugar," she said firmly, stepping inside and holding up the Tupperware. No sense giving the exhibitionist any ideas. She steadfastly avoided looking at his ripped, naked chest and asked bluntly, "May I borrow some, please?"

He smiled generously. Wonderful, the next-door neighbor was thawing. He told her, "Of course you can. Would you like something? We have tea, coffee –"

"Soda and juice," Seiryuu cut in, coming around a corner and beaming, the exact same thought in his mind. "Or chips, or cookies? Haku made chocolate chip just yesterday. Or we have some Oreos, and milk. You're never too old for milk and cookies, I always say!"

Shashi now avoided looking at two ripped, naked chests. These people had no sense of common decency! Yes it was hot outside, and yes it was their house, but…

_Gay incest! _paranoia shrieked. _Or – or they're trying to seduce you, Shashi, for a threesome! They __knew__ you needed sugar, and before they give you your baking supplies pants will come off! Quick, lay down boundaries, and remember self-defense class: go for the balls and the eyes._

"All I want is the sugar," she said firmly. "That's _all._" _I'll make it so you can never boink each other again. Try something, I __dare__ you._

Hakuryuu nodded, somewhat disappointed that he and Seiryuu couldn't chat with Shashi and get her to see that they weren't so bad. But oh well, perhaps she was just having a bad day, and didn't like cookies that tasted like little bits of Heaven. Not everyone did, poor misguided and/or health nut souls.

"Lemonade then?" Seiryuu tried, unwilling to let this chance of socializing go. "Or water? Or –"

"I'm not thirsty," she barked, and his eyebrows rose. Whoa, this woman was pissed for some reason. Maybe they could bring cookies over later to apologize for whatever it was?

He smiled nervously at his brother and said, "Okay Haku, go get her that sugar. You know exactly where it is, Bertie Crocker." With that, he made himself scarce, and Shashi imagined a target sign on his sicko back.

Hakuryuu sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then informed his neighbor, "Seiryuu burns microwave burritos. Poor inept soul." He indicated the living room and urged, "Please, make yourself at home. If I may?"

He held out his hand for the Tupperware, and she told him, "I need a full cup. White granulated sugar."

_And no cocaine mixed in, you irresponsible pervert. And the second you look at my breasts, I will dump that sugar over your head and kick you in the crotch, so hard your voice will be permanently falsetto. I will defend myself against your lecherous advances, and I'll sue you too! And I'll rip your hair out, I'll make sure to do that._

Unaware of Shashi's violent thoughts, Hakuryuu nodded and assured her, "We have lots of sugar. But please, do sit down while I go get it."

"I'm fine here," she said coldly, and he had to wonder if she was still upset about the pansies Ryuu had flattened the other day. She'd threatened to slash his tires or take him to court, and only Tenou's intervention had prevented a fracas.

He backed off and went to get the sugar, leaving her glancing around the living room. Hmm, no bongs in sight, and no magazines with titles like "Men and Muscles" either. It looked like your average living room, and you'd never know, she thought to herself, that it belonged to two brothers who liked screwing around with each other and listening to Devil-worshiping music. Well, maybe their bedroom (she was convinced they shared one) was a complete and total boudoir? With black silk sheets and metalhead porn posters on the walls? And bedposts so they could handcuff each other to them?

Hakuryuu probably handcuffed Seiryuu, she decided. Hakuryuu was the older sibling, and as such had probably been molesting his little bro for a while, she was certain. Although hmm, if he did the cooking, did that make him the submissive? Or maybe Seiryuu just did whatever Hakuryuu wanted in return for being fed, if he was so inept he couldn't even microwave a frigging burrito.

"Here's your sugar, Shashi," the supposed dominant smiled, coming back out with the Tupperware. "I put in one and a half cups, just in case. Now, really, won't you have at least one cook–?"

"No. Thank you for the sugar," she said frostily, turning to go. "You have a nice day now."

"Thank you, you too. You know, please don't be a stranger. We –"

_SLAM!_

Hakuryuu stared at the door, a frown on his face. What was _with _that woman? Had he unknowingly done something to offend her? Ryuu had repaid her for the pansies, in fact overpaid because she'd inflated the price, and been very, very careful not to drive over any of her property again. So unless she liked to hold grudges, it was something else.

"Sei," he sighed, poking his head into the study, "you haven't, oh I don't know, gone over to Shashi's house and broken a garden gnome or something by accident, have you?"

"No," Seiryuu replied shortly, his eyes glued to the screen and his fingers typing furiously. "I think she's just one of those women who get scared of new men. We just have to get to know her better, and her son too. I see Tenou out in the yard, but whenever I try to invite him over, she pops up and drags him back inside."

"Well, surely if we keep being nice, she'll come around," Hakuryuu smiled, unaware that Shashi was at that moment calling the two of them nasty names in her kitchen.

.

One fine May afternoon, Ryuu found himself repeatedly ringing his cousins' doorbell with much more force than was necessary, his face like a thundercloud – no, a _hurricane_. Alexander had not been picked up by the network he'd sent his demonstration video to, so he'd decided to up the domestic ante. And guess who got to be the guinea pig? Not in a cuddly pet way, either.

School had sucked too, more than usual. Yeah he saw Suki get smack-talked by a couple other students, but Craig and Co. had been exceedingly mean in the lunchroom, and Ryuu had been sent to the principal's office for verbally fighting back. Of course all the witnesses had sworn it was entirely his fault, and the lunchroom monitor, a dim-witted older woman, had bought it.

"You may stop abusing our doorbell," Hakuryuu snapped as he yanked the door open, then sighed, "Nathan. Why, Nathan? Why do you insist on doing things like that?"

"Bad day, Haku. Lemme in," Ryuu demanded, and shoved inside before Hakuryuu could step back. Yes, he was a pushy little person, but oh well. His mom thought that was part of his charm, and she was very pushy too.

"Hey Nathan!" Seiryuu greeted, coming in from the study. "What's with the grumpy face?"

"Dad. And school. But mostly Dad. He's gone completely off the deep end, and I can't make him see reason. He's trying to learn hairdressing now, guys! To be 'well-rounded'!" As he spoke, Ryuu made air quotes with a disgusted look on his face.

Then he continued, "He wants to be 'the total homemaker package,' and demonstrate how you don't have to be gay to be a guy interested in hairdressing! And do you know how he wants to practice? I'll tell you! He wants to give me blond highlights!" he yelled, completely fed up, and completely satisfied with his hair the way it was.

"Hair is important for one's image," Hakuryuu said seriously. "There are even a few songs about it."

"I've had enough – This is my prayer – That I'll die livin' just as free as my hair!" Seiryuu sang, whipping his around in a display that would make a great music video scene in slow motion. Long, blue-black locks, wavy and very shiny, tumbled and flew all around, and actually, this would make a phenomenal ad for Mr. Manly's Shampoo for Those with Black Hair too.

Ryuu sighed, "Aw, come off it," but Hakuryuu gleefully belted, "I've had enough – I'm not a freak – I just keep fightin' to stay cool on these streets – I've had enough, enough, enough, and this is my prayer – I swear – I'm as free as my hair!" As he sang he imitated his brother, and now Mr. Manly's Shampoo for Those with White Hair could be glorified as well.

"I'm as free as my hair!"

"I am my hair!"

"I am my hair!"

They sang the "Free as my hai-ai-ai-ai-ai-air" part while headbanging, as Ryuu rolled his eyes and wondered what it was like to have normal relatives. He was willing to bet most people's cousins were sane, or at least saved their insanity for the privacy of their basements or something.

Before they could continue, he snapped, "Yeah, you have such nice hair, I get it! Sheesh! Drama queens. Maybe you and your nice hair can actually _listen _to me?! I think Dad needs to be stopped!"

"Possibly," Hakuryuu agreed, pushing his hair out of his face (well, except for the bangs over his right eye). "Or perhaps you should be grateful that he's able to do things like that. _Our _dad works a job that takes all his time and energy, and we only see him at _major_ family events. I mean, Nathan, he skipped Christmas last year!"

"But at least he's _normal!_" Ryuu whined, waving his hands around to try to make his kin understand. "And you don't have to live with him!"

"Chill out," Seiryuu ordered. "Stick to your guns and don't let him touch your hair, but I think you should count your blessings. He's such a nice guy, and some kids don't have a parent who's always in the home to take care of them and help them out. A lot of kids have to fend for themselves during the day, ever think about that?"

Ryuu just growled, then hastily changed the subject with, "Lemme at my drums, and I'll be okay."

He went back out and brought them in, with his cousins' help, and by the time they were set up, he felt a little better. Bashing on the skins always helped, and it _was _a constructive outlet for his anger. He could pretend he was wailing on Craig's face with each hit, and music soothed the savage beast, after all.

Today, Dragon Tribe was still bass player-less. But they'd gotten a couple replies, and one of them sounded pretty good. Hopefully he'd be coming over soon, and they could play their songs in all their glory.

As it was, it was a guitar tandem and drums, which made it harder. But oh well, if need be Seiryuu could always pick up the backup bass, which he did today. As Hakuryuu practiced his riffs, Ryuu beat Craig's face in with much enthusiasm. And somehow, that made it all better.

.

A couple weeks later found the three of them in the music room again, this time with two other young men: Drew Donalds and Tenou Prince.

Drew was the new bass player. While at first they'd thought Zouchouten was the new bass player due to a mix-up of houses and bad timing, they were pleased enough with Drew. Unfortunately he wasn't built like a tank and didn't have "barbarian sideburns," as Ryuu had snickered, but he was nice and he was good at what he did. His stage name was "Spider," since he had one tattooed on his left bicep.

If Tenou's red hair didn't make him stand out, his kindness sure did. He was probably the nicest person Ryuu had ever met, and they were becoming great friends. He was sweet, and smart, and so friendly it was clear nobody had ever really been mean to him in his life.

If only his mother didn't hate her neighbors, it could have been a family-friendly sitcom. Shashi would be the uptight doctor who learned to loosen up as the season went on, Tenou would be the bridge between the two houses since he adored the Waters clan, Hakuryuu would be the bossy brother who nevertheless had much wisdom to share, Seiryuu would be the off-kilter comic relief brother, and Ryuu would be the plucky underdog student, he assured himself.

Tenou had been converted to being a rocker the very day Drew and Zouchouten had come over. While up to now his career path had been a straight line to "pediatrician," it had taken a sudden turn to "rock star." Why? For a couple of reasons, really.

One was that he already liked music and played the acoustic guitar, and had always secretly thought he'd be a good rocker if given the chance. The second was that rebellious piece, which had shocked Shashi. For most of his life her son had been the perfect obedient child, and suddenly, he had found a way to express his inner dissident in a creative way. He'd been under her thumb for his whole life, and it had been time for a change.

The third was that he thought his neighbors and their cousin were super-cool. They ran around with their shirts off! This meant they were serious about sticking it to the man, and they were really encouraging too. They were teaching him the electric, and let him borrow a ton of CDs, and when they played, it was almost riveting.

"Okay," Seiryuu said after demonstrating a couple chords, "now you try." He handed "Tsunami," his beloved electric, over to Tenou with a grin, as Hakuryuu watched closely and Ryuu and Drew fiddled with an amp.

Tenou pulled it off pretty well, considering. And he wasn't getting discouraged, at all. Nobody was Ted Nugent on their first month of electric, and he practiced as much as he could without having an electric guitar of his own. Of course he was saving up for one, but the trick was getting Shashi to the point of letting him buy it.

She was opposed to her son's new purpose in life, very much so. She was a doctor, so her son should be a doctor too! What was so great about ear-splitting music, homoerotic fanservice, and the drug culture? Never mind that the music was actually good and she might have honestly liked some of it, or that the fanservice was all because it was hot out and being shirtless was rebellious, and none of them ever did drugs, not even Drew. …Well, okay, Drew was a smoker, but he never did it while over here and he was, in fact, trying to quit.

When Drew and Tenou left hours later, both of them grinning, Ryuu smiled, "Guys… this is great. Maybe if Tenou gets good enough we can use him?"

"He could be second backup guitar," Hakuryuu thought aloud. "Unusual to have three guitars and no keyboard, but maybe we could make it work. That's a long way off, though. Although I must say I'm impressed with his progress. He has a gift, I think."

"Too bad his mom seems to think it's a bad thing," Seiryuu sighed. "She still hates us, by the way. I came out to mow the lawn and she went right back inside, even though she'd just settled down in her lawn chair. I mean, what's up with that? We want to be her friends, it's not like we're the evil neighbors who call the police on her for stupid stuff and mess up her yard."

"Did either of you hit on her?" Ryuu asked, confused as well.

"Hell no," Seiryuu snorted. "She kinda has a teenage kid? Yeah she's pretty, but she doesn't have the nicest personality even without the Tenou thing. And can you honestly see me dating Tenou's _mom? _That's just screwed up, right Haku?"

"Indeed it is," Hakuryuu agreed, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Beautiful women with teenage children are off-limits. Perhaps if he were eight and not our friend and she was kinder, but now… don't be dumb, Nathan. I have no desire to hit on Shashi Prince, although I have to wonder if she thinks I do."

The three of them decided that was probably it, and vowed to casually mention how platonic their gestures of friendship were. Well, Hakuryuu and Seiryuu's, because Ryuu thought Shashi was a bitch and didn't want to be her friend at all. Still, he'd rather she liked him and his family, so he went along with it.

But a week later, no progress had been made on that front. In fact, the only progress made was with the worm for Wu Mei Fan, and Seiryuu was pretty sure that when he found a way to deliver it, WMF would cry. He hoped it would be soon, because he'd been spending a lot of sleepless nights trying to defeat his enemy.

Hakuryuu still lived in terror of Dr. Renbatz. He'd recently had a review, and she'd managed to make his good performance look not good enough, and wouldn't let him defend himself when she started in on the bitching about unprofessionalism. In response he'd written a power anthem all about employees banding together and toppling their evil clinic overlord, and it was his best work ever.

Ryuu himself endured more and more ragging at school, as Alexander had picked him up one day, but not before dropping off some cookie bars to the teachers, all of which had been ever so grateful and impressed. But other students had seen him, and heard his proud, "I made these from scratch. They're my own recipe, and my warrior woman wife loves 'em," and added that ammo to their "Nathan's dad is secretly gay" projectile weapons in the war of words.

So when Ryuu showed up to hang out that weekend, he was ready to rant.

Seiryuu was in the study like usual, which meant Hakuryuu, Muffin, and Mikey alone dealt with the wrath of Ryuu. He was storming back and forth, kicking at the floor, waving his arms around, and growling, "I hate school! If I could somehow blow it up with only Craig and his dickhead friends and Suki and Mr. Kaiser inside it, I would!"

Hakuryuu thought about warning him not to make light of school shootings and such, but Ryuu was continuing, "Jocks should all be rounded up and sent to work in labor camps! All they do is physical stuff anyway!"

"Nathan, you know, a lot of high school athletes are actually good students too," Hakuryuu tried, "and just because they –"

"Not these!" Ryuu whined, clenching his hair in his hands. "And you know what else? I'll tell you what else! They zero in on me, even though I've never done anything to them, and nobody else says anything to back me up! They find a target and pursue it like – like guard dogs after a burglar dipped in gravy!"

And suddenly, in Hakuryuu's mind, all those faceless jocks suddenly morphed into a posse of Dr. Renbatzes, wearing letter jackets and grinning nastily. Well, she was kind of a bully, these people were bullies, and suddenly he identified with Ryuu a whole lot more. They were both good men under attack, he thought as Ryuu elaborated on the cafeteria situation, and their assailants had to be _stopped_.

"So then Craig had the nerve to say, 'Only big boys can drink soda, have some milk, shrimpy,' and stole my soda and tossed it into the rafters!" Ryuu snarled, pounding his fist into his hand. "I wanna kick that guy in the balls so much!"

"_Waters," _Dr. Renbatz said in Hakuryuu's head, _"only __real__ doctors get to have days off during the week."_

"And Joey told me I'm really a pixie, 'cause my dad's a 'fairy' anyway!"

"_Waters, you're a child. Grow up and cut your hair!"_

"Then Craig's bitchy girlfriend said I was such a loser, she'd be surprised if I didn't end up living in my parents' basement until I'm forty!" Ryuu revealed in a growl, his eyes flashing.

"_Waters, you are a complete and utter loser. Why do I get the sense your family is just as shiftless as you are?"_

"Nathan," Hakuryuu said firmly, "what you have to do is simple: you have to stand up for yourself, in a very public manner. You have to let them know that they're out of line, and tell them that you _know _they only pick on you to make themselves feel better about their awful selves!" he snarled, suddenly looking a bit homicidal.

"Well," Ryuu said cautiously, "that's easy to say, but doing it might lead to –"

"Tell them," Hakuryuu was yelling now, "that you've had enough! Tell them they're pathetic, insecure morons to take their little complexes out on an innocent man!"

Ryuu's eyes currently resembled green dinner plates. Good God, Haku was losing it. The teen had apparently tapped into a deep-seated, rage-triggering current of unhappiness, one he'd had no idea was there. He thought for a moment, very confused. Hadn't Hakuryuu been one of the popular kids in school?

"Tell her she's a harpy!" Hakuryuu bellowed, clenching the air and with his face brick red. "Tell her, 'Bitch, if you look at my crotch one more time I'm grabbing your shoulders and shaking you until your neck snaps'!"

Ryuu weakly tried, "No no, it's a bunch of guys –"

"Tell her you have fantasies of using a scalpel for non-medical actions! Tell her you want to strangle her with that stupid stethoscope! Tell her the next batch of brownies you bring in will be laced with arsenic just for her!"

Ryuu could now do nothing besides stare, and think, _Is this how the guys on the Manhattan Project felt when they watched the atom bomb go off? Horrified by its destructive power, but fascinated by its giant explosion? _

"Tell her that the minute your residency's up, you're finding a _new _clinic, with a director who's a kindly Santa of a man! Tell her, 'My hair is sexy, and you wish yours was half as thick and glossy'! Tell her you wrote a song called 'The Boss Dies Tonight'!" Hakuryuu ranted, kicking the coffee table so hard a coaster fell off and rolled under a chair.

Seiryuu, who had poked his head in at "Tell them that you've had enough," walked over and waved a hand in his brother's face, pleading, "Haku? Haku, calm down. You're scaring Nathan."

Hakuryuu blinked, coming back from the mists of a near-berserker rage. "Nathan? Oh." He looked at Ryuu like he'd forgotten he was there, and sheepishly said, "Hello, Nathan."

"Hi," Ryuu managed warily. "You done scaring us now?"

"I think so. Yes, yes I think I'm all right now," Hakuryuu replied, a bit shakily. Whoa… so it was really true: when you saw red, you went off to a magical land of testosterone and violent fantasies, and you didn't even realize what was going on around you. Scary.

Ryuu and Seiryuu exchanged "Should we be worried?" glances, and sent Hakuryuu to the kitchen to get some lemon bars. It worked to calm him down, and by the time they'd all had three, the oldest one admitted, "I think I lost it there. If that ever happens again, someone slap me in the face to bring me back, all right?"

"Sure Haku," Ryuu said cheerfully, reaching for another bar. "We'll happily beat you up whenever you want."

.

On a day much like any other awful school day, Ryuu sighed as he shut his locker and prepared to go home. It was later than usual, since he'd had to stay after class and write an apology for being "mouthy" to Mr. Kaiser. Well, he wasn't sorry for his comments!

The comments had been along the lines of "Hey, quit calling on Suki all the time, jerk!" and he'd interrupted Suki's answer about Roman aqueducts to say them. Needless to say, she and Mr. Kaiser had been shocked, the rest of the class had suddenly been much more interested, and Ryuu himself had felt very manly. It was worth it, totally.

As he walked out the door, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a group of people clustered around the other front door. They seemed to be circling something, so maybe someone was showing off a new electronic toy? Or it was an impromptu rap-off, like in a movie or something? Then he cocked his head, perturbed. He could hear jeering, although he couldn't make out the words, and somebody was sobbing as everybody else laughed.

He set his jaw and strode over. Why, this would not do! Gawd, he couldn't _wait _until he went off to college, and then he'd only have to deal with jocks in basic classes and in passing, and the cheerleaders would be too busy blowing the jocks as a sorority initiation to pick on people who were actually at college to learn.

"…And you're ugly!" one of the cheerleaders was saying gleefully. "You don't even have the sense to put on makeup to cover up your dog face!"

Ryuu shoved the outer circle aside none to gently, rolling his eyes and so fed up he wanted to scream. High school… to think the world thought it was worth having reunions over.

He tapped the beyotch who was talking on the shoulder, and she whipped around to look at him, sneering. As a silence fell at this unexpected interruption of the favorite pastime of mean people everywhere, Ryuu got his first look at the victim and suddenly wished he'd kept walking. Suki stared up at him, on the ground with her books scattered (and in some cases torn) around her, and she looked like she'd been crying for a while. She didn't look injured, and her face bore no handprint from a slap, but you didn't have to physically assault someone to hurt them.

Oh… shit. He really wished his life had a "rewind" button.

But he'd done what he'd done, and he abhorred bullies, so he informed the leader, "Quit it, for Chrissake! Go gossip about stupid stuff, not pick on somebody. What kind of loser are you if the only way you can feel better about yourself is by teasing her?"

As Suki's mouth dropped open in surprise, along with a lot of other people's, the leader snapped, "I'm a great, beautiful person! I _know _I'm better than she is, and your dad's a fag!"

Ryuu _really _wanted to tackle her for that one, but instead, he shot back, "No, he's not. Anybody else notice how she has to lash out instead of back off gracefully?" he asked the rest with a grin. "See, to me that seems to be a sign of an attention whore who can't admit she's wrong, but silly me, I'm just getting an A-plus in Psychology."

A couple other people were grinning too; these mini-mobs tended to draw in individuals who just wanted to harass _somebody_, not anyone in particular. And if the original victim wasn't working out, turning on someone else would be perfectly acceptable substitution. Others in the crowd were thrown for a loop, honestly, having somebody break in and lock horns with the leader, and figured it might be time to just let it go.

Before his opponent could think up a response, Ryuu continued, "Leave her alone, Bunny or whatever the hell your nickname is today. Otherwise I'll have to go get an authority figure and tell them you seem to have pushed her down and wrecked her property. Shoo, bitches."

And they shooed, but not without a lot of glares and insults. Ryuu took a deep, steadying breath, the adrenaline seeping away and leaving him almost stunned that he'd defended "Brainy Bitch," as her common nickname was. Then again, now that he thought about it, she never teased anybody, just showed them up in class. Well, he'd make it clear this wasn't about her, just about his hatred of bullies.

"Thank you."

It was a tiny, tear-laden whisper from behind him, and he turned to see Suki getting to her knees and starting to gather her books, her lower lip trembling. Aw, crap, she was still crying! Great, now if he walked away he'd look almost as bad as they did, so he heaved a mental sigh and helped her gather her books.

"What was it about?" he finally asked, as she got to her feet and pushed her glasses up her face. "I mean, what was their excuse?"

"It started when Brittany came over and made fun of me for talking on the phone in Japanese. I was calling my mom," Suki explained. "When I hung up, she told me I should speak English because I'm in America, never mind that I always do to anyone but my family, and often to them too."

"Uh…"

"Ever since we moved here six years ago," she sniffled, "I wanted to go home to Hokkaido. But my dad's job is why we moved here, and my mom likes _her _job too, so I'm stuck here. And they say I can't go back for college, which means I'll probably never get the chance to go back home. I miss Japan! People are so much meaner here, and so rude it was a huge culture shock."

Hmm. And here he'd thought she was second-generation. Sheesh, that had to majorly suck, missing the country you'd mostly grown up in and being stuck in one where nobody liked you. Well, it was mostly her fault, he thought loftily, but still. Maybe it was some kinda Japanese thing: "I must be a know-it all to bring honor to my family."

His grandpa was of Japanese origin, but only for five years before he immigrated with his family. He tended to value American culture over Japanese culture, always spoke English, and while he had taught his descendants a couple phrases here and there, he was the textbook example of "assimilated." Be that as it may, Ryuu recalled that over in the Land of the Rising Sun family was incredibly important, as was education.

"Um… so why do you have to work so hard in school?" he asked diplomatically. What he'd wanted to say was, "Why do you have to be so fricking smart and make me look bad?" but that was mean.

"My parents say I _have_ to get into a great college and be at the top of my class," she answered, like this wasn't unusual at all in this age of slacker parents who just didn't care what their kids were up to. "They want me to always be working hard, never taking a break. You're lucky your dad lets you have some fun."

"Yeah, he – wait, how'd you know that?" he asked suspiciously. Uh-oh, what if she secretly thought he was hot and was stalking him?

"Well, I assume playing the drums is fun," she said a bit meekly. "It's common knowledge that you can do that. I mean, you take band, and people talk about classes."

Oh good, he was safe. Because he sure as hell wasn't attracted to her, and if she'd started to hit on him he would have had to take to his heels and insult her from a safe distance. But no, she seemed to view him as just another classmate, but one who got to have fun. He was startled to see that he now felt very sorry for her, not just for the teasing. Nose-to-the-grindstone had to suck.

So he tried to confirm, "Don't you have any hobbies?"

"I collect shells. I know all about them, and I have some from all over the world, I buy them online or in stores. And I have a parakeet whose name is Kajiki," she told him, sounding a little less upset. But that was gone when she continued, "But even though he talks, it's not like a person talking.

"I just want a _friend_," she sighed, sounding indescribably hopeless. "Somebody to talk to and not have to worry they're mocking me behind my back. I talk to my best friend from Hokkaido all the time with Skype and on the phone and instant-messaging, but it's not the same, you know?"

He agreed, "I know. But um, if… okay, I don't have a polite way to say this, so I'll just be blunt: maybe if you didn't hog the teachers' attentions and be so serious all the time, people would like you more."

"Are you saying I shouldn't try hard in school? That I should 'dumb down'?" she tried to confirm, a bit of a testy tone to her voice.

"No! No, don't dumb down, just – just ease off. Let other people answer too. Like in Mr. Kaiser's class? He only ever calls on you, and you never try to let anyone else show what they know. I mean, c'mon, I know all about the Romans too, but with you in the room I look dumb," Ryuu sighed, getting annoyed.

She thought for a moment, and he had to wonder what was going through her head. How could she _not _know what an attention-hogger she was? Unless… maybe she was one of those Aspie people, the ones who were really good at academics but woefully inadequate at social things? Now that he thought about it, that would explain a lot, and if nobody had ever told her what a pill she was, how would she know?

Evidence was added to that conclusion when she asked, "Is that why everybody hates me?"

He refrained from deadpanning, "No shit, Sherlock," and instead replied, "Yeah. I mean, that's why I got mad at you all the time. A lot of people think you did it on purpose, just to be a bi– a brat," he hastily amended with a "Whoops" grin.

Before Suki could reply, a car horn beeped and a voice called, "Suki! Who's your friend?"

They both turned to see a tiny Asian woman, clad in a business suit with her hair in a neat twist, behind the wheel of a sleek car and looking at them curiously. She had pulled up a mere ten feet away, and they hadn't even noticed. She looked almost exactly like Suki, just older and with different hair.

"This is Nathan Ryuu, Mom," Suki introduced him. "Nathan, this is my mother, Miyabi Kazuhiko."

"Hey," Ryuu greeted, not sure if he was comfortable being called Suki's friend. But oh well, protesting would be super rude.

A couple pleasantries were exchanged, then Suki got into the car, waved goodbye, and she and her mom were off. Ryuu cocked his head and stared after them, unsure what to think about all this. If he was lucky, he'd planted the seeds of, um… _not_-attention-hogging. Maybe.

The next morning found him back in Mr. Kaiser's class, extremely fidgety. Well, who could blame him? It was the last day of actual class, and tomorrow would be the final. But it was a review day, so they'd be covering things from all through the year. Review days were good, even though Ryuu was pretty sure he had the material down. Most of it, anyway.

"So," Mr. Kaiser began, "we'll start with a recent question, class. Now, who can tell me who the emperor Nero's father was?" He looked at Suki expectantly, and Ryuu prepared himself for the same old, same old.

And then, a miracle happened: she kept her hand down, turned in her seat, and sent him an encouraging grin. Mr. Kaiser blinked in confusion, but Ryuu shot his hand up and waved it frantically, as the rest of the class looked up in surprise that she wasn't being called on.

"Yes, Nathan?" Mr. Kaiser asked, sounding a little stunned. "Who was Nero's father?"

"His biological dad was Gnaues Domitius Ahenobarbus, but he died when Nero was two. He got adopted by his great-uncle Claudius as an heir," Ryuu answered with a grin. "Oh, and his birth name was Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus."

"Indeed. Well done, Nathan," Mr. Kaiser replied, sounding immensely confused.

And with Ryuu leading the way, the rest of the class got to answer too. Some of them got their answers wrong, most of them didn't measure up to Ryuu and Suki, and Suki did answer a few times when no one else could get it right, but today was the day that things changed for the better in "Ancient History: The Middle East and Mediterranean." Too bad it was the second-to-last day, but better late than never.

When the class ended, there were curious looks galore as Ryuu and Suki walked off to chemistry together. The hell? Didn't Shrimpy hate Brainy Bitch? Then again, if it meant a bit more variety next year and a chance at a better grade in History, the rest of the class wasn't about to complain.

She wasn't so bad, he decided as they took seats at the same table at lunch. She actually had a sense of humor too, if you got her out of her shell. Yeah they were still cautious around each other, but this was a major improveme–

"Aw, lookit guys. Ain't it cute? Nathan the Flea has a girlfriend!" Craig drawled, the inevitable lunchtime ritual of "Harass the Outsider" starting once again.

"No, I've got a _friend_," Ryuu snapped. "We're not all hormone-driven gorillas, Craig. And now," he decided, having had a genius idea that just might work, "we're going to ignore you and talk about pets."

"I bet you have a pet poodle, that your dad dresses up in little pink –"

"What words does Kajiki know?" Ryuu asked Suki with a bright tone in his voice, acting as if Craig and Company weren't there at all.

"He knows his name, and 'treat,' and 'good boy,' and my name, and 'hello,' " she answered with a grin, as the jocks gave each other confused looks. What the hell was this? Teasing was only fun if you got a reaction.

"Does he know 'Brainy Bitch'?" Joey tried optimistically.

"Whoa, cool," Ryuu grinned back. "I have iguanas, and of course they don't talk. Their names are Wyvern and Draco, both of which –"

"Relate to dragons! A wyvern is a dragon with no back legs, and sometimes no front legs either, just the wings. And 'draco' is Latin for dragon. 'Kajiki' means 'swordfish,' and I named him that because he's deep blue, like the ocean," Suki explained, as Craig pondered stealing Ryuu's soda again to get a reaction.

But Ryuu had learned from prior experience, and kept a firm grip on his bottle. Craig then considered stealing Suki's milk, but decided that she might just tattle on him, and since all the teachers loved her, they'd believe her even when they didn't believe Ryuu. No fair! The little nerds shouldn't have been able to find a way to circumvent Craig's studly oppression of them.

So he muttered something like, "I want another piece of pie," and walked off, his hangers-on following him in confusion. Ryuu and Suki, to their credit, didn't high-five, which would be giving the rest an indication that they acknowledged their existence. Instead, they kept talking about pets.

And so they added each other's numbers to their phones, and agreed to meet up during the summer, maybe just to hang out or maybe to go to the Science Museum, as Zenmi had a really cool one. Suki showed Ryuu a picture of Kajiki, and Ryuu showed Suki pictures of Wyvern and Draco, plus his family and the cats.

And then they got onto the subject of movies, and by the time lunch ended, it had been decided that "The Avengers" needed more Hawkeye/Black Widow, and that the fight sequences had been epic. So it was official, Nathan Ryuu had a _friend_ who wasn't his family now. And really, he didn't need a posse, just one buddy. That was one hundred percent better than before, after all.

.

One day in August, Ryuu found himself at not his cousins' house, but Tenou's house. They'd decided to get together without musical instruments, and Ryuu had offered to bring over a classic videogame, "Final Fantasy X." Yes the main character and his love interest were annoying, but the _supporting party members_… they were epically awesome, and Tenou had been wanting to play the game for a while.

"C'mon in," Tenou said cheerfully, ushering his pal inside. "My mother's still at work, and should be for a while. So we've got the house to ourselves! This translates to being able to have the TV as loud as we want, and any snacks you'd like. Doritos? Potato chips? Pretzels? Popcorn, even?"

"Doritos are always a winner. Thanks. So… your mom's gone, and it's just you. Say, Tenou, where's your dad?" Ryuu asked, as casually and as non-confrontationally as he could. This was something he'd always wondered, and he figured they were good enough friends by now to ask that potentially loaded question.

"I don't actually know," the older teenager replied, sounding a little embarrassed. "My mother said she'll tell me when I turn eighteen. I think he's probably dead, or maybe in prison, but I do know that she loved him and he wasn't some random guy at a bar. I hope he was somebody who'd be proud of me."

Here Tenou, like almost everyone else, was in the dark. For you see, he actually _did _know his dad. He'd dropped off a gift from Taishakuten to Shashi; gone out to dinner with the Princes, Taishakuten, Zouchouten, and Koumokuten and his family; gone on a couple coffee dates with Tenou; and was unaware that he even had a son. Yes, Mr. Reginald Clarence Bishamonten had knocked Shashi Miranda Prince (then Shashi Miranda Lipschnitzski) up, and she'd left him before either of them was aware of that. It was a long and complicated story that Tenou had no idea of, and actually, neither did poor Bishamonten. Shashi held all the cards, and she was keeping them close.

There was sexual tension galore. With Bishamonten's wife Kisshouten in Toronto, Ontario for six months after he'd been a brat to her, the head of Expansion was having more and more flights of fancy in which he and Shashi were like how they once were: a pair of well-matched lovers, who made nasty comments about everyone else and did all sorts of erotic things together.

Unbeknownst to him, so was she. But she _was _engaged to Taishakuten, and Bishamonten clearly loved his "lotus," so Shashi was keeping mum, even though sometimes she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and confess, "Reginald, Tenou's your son! And I _love _you! Here, take your clothes off and I'll show you just how much I want be with you again."

Blithely unaware of all that, Ryuu smiled, "Oh. Wow, that's all mysterious. Anyway," he popped in "Final Fantasy X," "this game's great. I'll show you what to do, then you can play, okay?"

First there was a puzzle to do, and then there were some random encounters, and finally, on the last battle before it was Tenou's turn, there was some fanservice. Because Lulu, the black mage of the party, had breasts so big one would have thought her back would be killing her, and she was clad in a long dress that left them almost completely exposed. It was a pretty dress, but surely she'd get frostbite in this level, which was set on a snowy mountain. Sheesh.

And after wearing three opponents down with the grumpy samurai guy who always carried booze around, the plucky thief with an outfit that would give her frostbite too, and Lulu, one more blow would probably kill the last fiend. With a grin on his face, Ryuu had Lulu cast her Firaga attack, setting the Behemoth on fire as Tenou smirked, "Cool."

And then, in a move that just went to show how many game designers were straight males, Ms. Bondage Dress leaned forwards into the camera, those giant boobs looking even giant-er and a proud smile on her face. Tenou was gobsmacked, and breathed out a stunned, "Uh…"

"Oh, she does that," Ryuu said offhandedly, as if he didn't use Lulu for the killing blow whenever possible just to see it. "I've learned to look away." This was a complete and total lie, obviously, as he was staring.

"Uh, yeah," Tenou agreed, pretending to look away but attempting to keep his eyes on the screen. "So, um, are Auron and Rikku really –?"

"AAAHH! Tenou honey, what are you _watching?!_" Shashi's appalled shriek came from the doorway, making them both jump. "And what is _he _doing in our living room?! Turn that smut off, I mean it young man! Nathan, I blame _you!_"

"Mother, it's just a regular –"

"That woman was straight out of a softcore porn set!" Shashi snarled, pointing to the screen, which had gone back to Tidus standing on Mt. Gagazet. "Give me that disc, you deviant little pervert!" she directed at Ryuu, who suddenly wished he'd brought over "Plants vs. Zombies" instead.

"Mother, really, it's not porn! It's rated 'T,' and it was only for a few seconds," Tenou replied, attempting to defend his pal as Shashi stormed forwards and Ryuu cringed back.

"Get out of my house!" she howled at Ryuu. "And when I break your disc, I'll show you that your CG filth is unacceptable! Don't you _ever _bring that or anything like it over here again, and in fact, don't you ever set foot on my property again!"

Her precious, innocent little boy had been sullied! See, this was evidence that Ryuu and his family were bad news, and no doubt they'd shown Tenou worse at their house. They'd probably had him view hardcore, gangbang porn flicks or gay porn, she was convinced of this. Well, it stopped here and now!

Ryuu hastily hit "Quit" and got the disc out, as Shashi harangued her son for being a pervert-in-training. The drummer wondered if maybe he should jump in and defend Tenou, but a quick glance and a shake of the head from the older boy nixed that idea. It was a clear "Save yourself" signal, and all Ryuu could do was honor his friend's dying wish – er, noble attempt to spare him a lecture.

"I will be watching you very, very closely from now on, young man!" Shashi was bellowing as Ryuu ran to the door. "And who said you could invite him over anyway?! I certainly didn't! Tenou, I am your mother, and as such I deserve to know who's going to be in my house! And I don't want a grunge-rocker hoodlu–"

Ryuu shut the door, whooshed out a breath of relief, and scuttled on over to his cousins' house. He'd be safe there, and he'd come all this way so he didn't want to go home just yet.

As Ryuu explained the harrowing situation to an unimpressed Hakuryuu, Seiryuu grinned viciously at his computer screen. Today was the day Wu Mei Fan paid for his crimes, and it had been a long time coming.

Since sending the worm through email hadn't worked, Seiryuu had been forced to concoct an elaborate plot. He'd trolled WMF, posing as a gamer who also hated BlueDragon105 on another MMORPG, and become "friends" with the jerk. Just minutes ago he'd mentioned that he had a bootlegged copy of a hard-to-find program, and offered to share it via a webpage created just for that and a download.

He'd played the part of cautious pirate very well, insisting on a password for the download, but gee, WMF had earned the right to know it, "But don't let word of this get out, OK?" Hopefully WMF wouldn't share the password with anyone, but if he did… well, sacrifices had to be made! After this Seiryuu would quickly take the page down, so at least the risk was minimized.

And right now, the little tracking program he had on his end was informing him that yup, his opponent had started the download. He watched with a kind of near-sadistic joy as the status bar got longer and longer, and any second now, that worm would come into play and pwn the fucker's system.

He pictured it: Wu Mei Fan screaming in horror that his computer no longer responded. In Seiryuu's mind, his enemy was a fat, bearded man with a stained shirt and no life but harassing people online. He probably didn't bathe for a week, and had longish, messy hair because he was too lazy to cut it, and ate ramen right at his computer, not caring about the possible damage to such a precious machine.

Well, Seiryuu grinned, he would rue the day he messed with BlueDragon105! And yes, the download was now complete, MWA-ha-ha-ha! He punched his fists in the air, and said aloud, "Checkmate!"

And somewhere in China, a stunningly beautiful young woman's mouth dropped open as her screen sputtered for a second, displayed a graphic of a blue dragon, and went black after flashing the word "Winrar."

.

The very next day, a triumphant Seiryuu and a grumpy Hakuryuu were in the grocery store, getting some fruit. Usually one or the other of them did the shopping, but today they had a ton of stuff to get, and had decided to tag-team it. As the brunette picked out some tomatoes, whistling "We Are the Champions," his brother headed to the citrus section for some tangerines.

A woman wearing a flowing Gypsy skirt was looking at the grapefruit, and Hakuryuu glanced at her, glanced away, suddenly widened his eyes in fear, and did a comical double take. Despite the lack of glasses, the loose hair, the mascara, and the skirt, that was his _boss!_

He acted on instinct. He clapped a hand over Seiryuu's mouth before he said anything, and yanked him out of her line of sight. NOOO! How could she be in _his_ grocery store?! If he'd thought about her needing sustenance at all, he'd just figured that she lived off fear and suffering.

Seiryuu flailed and narrowly avoided knocking over the precarious pile of tomatoes, which would have gotten her attention for sure, and Hakuryuu hissed, "Stay still, you clumsy buffoon! That's Dr. Renbatz over there!"

"What, the lady with the ethnic skirt?" Seiryuu asked in a whisper. "I thought you said her hair was 'shackled into a bun at all times,' and she had glasses. Are you _sure _that's Dr. Renbatz?"

"Positive. We have to get out of here! When she sees me, she'll humiliate me in front of everybody else, and it'll be simply awful. I guess she secretly lets her hair down when off the clock, and wears contacts, and dresses not so conservatively too," Hakuryuu allowed, in the same volume.

"Haku," Seiryuu said quietly, "you're strung out and paranoid. Something has to change here." He studied Dr. Renbatz for a few moments with a frown on his face, and suddenly lit up. All he needed was a little light bulb over his head.

"I have analyzed the problem," he whispered with a grin, "and I think I may have a solution. But it'll require gathering more data, and an execution –"

"I want to kill her too," Hakuryuu snarled quietly, "but you can't just –"

"Execution of an _action_, you dork. Honestly. No, I have a plan. And that plan requires me to interact with the subject. I'll just go over there, talk to her, and I promise you Haku, things'll get better for you. Trust me, bro."

Hakuryuu didn't trust him at all. That is, he trusted that his brother _thought _he had a plan of attack, but he was sure that Dr. Renbatz would wreck that plan and get them both killed, in a metaphorical sense. For Seiryuu, it would translate as being ripped into with nasty words, and for Hakuryuu, it would translate as failing residency, or at least having a harder time at work.

"No," he said firmly. "Sei, you don't know what that woman is capable of!"

Seiryuu smirked at Dr. Renbatz, who was prodding the grapefruit hard enough to bruise, and whispered, "It's an experiment. You just hide behind the tomatoes and I'll do my thing."

Before Hakuryuu could drag him back and hiss, "No, she'll destroy you!" Seiryuu was strolling over to the grapefruit.

"Hi there!"

Dr. Renbatz looked up, her mouth dropping open. A young man with a headband, long blue-black hair, and a friendly smile was standing there, his thumbs hooked into his belt loops, wearing a tank top and a studded belt with a dragon buckle. And jeans and shoes, of course, plus socks and underwear, not that those could be seen.

Her eyes immediately went below the dragon buckle, and then flashed back up as she replied, "Hello."

As Hakuryuu cringed behind the tomatoes, Seiryuu reached out and picked up a grapefruit, smiling, "You look familiar, ma'am. Do you, by any chance, frequent the club called 'Vortex'?" he asked casually.

Hakuryuu was entirely confused. What the hell? Seiryuu hardly ever went to bars, even, let alone some fictional club with a name like "Vortex." After the disastrous outing where three drunken women had tackled him and tried to steal his headband as a trophy, he avoided places like that like the plague. So Hakuryuu wondered, _What's he playing at? Sometimes I wish I knew how his little hacker brain works…_

"Oh no," Dr. Renbatz downright _giggled_, "I'm rather a homebody. But perhaps you've been to my dermatology clinic?" she queried, sounding very proud of herself.

"Ooh, you're a dermatologist?" Seiryuu tried to confirm, sounding ever so delighted. "Do you do tattoo removal?"

Dr. Renbatz had forgotten the grapefruit, completely and with no regrets whatsoever. Her beleaguered employee was rather scared to see that she actually looked… pleasant. Almost kind and interested in someone else. And, it was killing him to admit this, _sexy._

With her hair down and her glasses off, she was very pretty, now that she was smiling instead of glowering. And she'd shifted her weight so one hip was slightly out, emphasizing her figure. He'd never really noticed before, but it was a darn good figure, especially for a middle-aged woman.

But he didn't trust her sudden attractiveness, oh no. Beneath that "chatty pretty woman" façade lurked the evil that had made him write "The Boss Dies Tonight," just _waiting _to snatch his foolhardy brother and maul him. What good were looks, when her personality was rabidly awful?

"Yes, we do an awful lot of tattoo removal," she was saying, while Hakuryuu wondered if he should leap out and forcibly drag Seiryuu away.

"Hey, great! See, I have this friend," Seiryuu told her seriously, "who needs a tattoo gone. He's pretty desperate."

And of course, when someone said something like, "I have this friend," more often than not, they were talking about themselves. Hakuryuu could tell that that was exactly what Dr. Renbatz was thinking, and she nodded seriously and assured her conversation partner, "Tattoo removal is a specialty of ours. It does take multiple sessions, but I'm sure I can help you."

"Oh, not _me_," he replied in an embarrassed tone, which only bolstered her conclusions. "But yeah, I'll make sure to pass it on to him. What's your clinic's name, and can I tell him to ask for you? You seem pretty on it."

"I'm Dr. Renbatz," she smiled. "The clinic is the Renbatz Healthy Skin and Laser Treatment Clinic, and our website is renbatzhsaltc [period comma], that's R-E-N-B-A-T-Z-H-S-A-L-T-C. So where, exactly, is this tattoo?"

He sighed, "Well, see, it's on his pelvis, actually. He really should've known better than to tattoo his old girlfriend's name in such a place, because they broke up, like, a month after that. And he's stuck with it, which sucks for reasons I'm sure you can understand."

Dr. Renbatz now looked like he'd given her a free pass to Disneyland, and she had a Tinkerbell fetish. Hakuryuu was just wondering if she'd ask, "Can you show me?" when a grouchy voice came from behind him.

"Dude, I gotta stock the bananas, and you're in the way, not even shopping. Can you, oh I dunno, _move?_" a stockboy with multiple pimples snapped, his hands on his hips in classic "macho dumb teenager" annoyance. "Not like you're actually doing any shopping right now, kneeling on the floor like that."

His cart had blocked the aisle, and Hakuryuu realized with dawning horror that the only way to get out of this guy's path would be to go forwards, which would send him right into Dr. Renbatz's line of sight! That could _not _be allowed to happen.

"I can't go that way," he said firmly. _Or the bitch will see me, shove Sei into the grapefruit, and attack me for living._

As Dr. Renbatz and Seiryuu talked on (Hakuryuu couldn't really hear what they were saying), the stockboy drawled, "And why, exactly, is that? There some kinda death ray over there? Or lemme guess, it's your ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, huh? Dude… be a _man _and don't hide back here!"

"No, _not _my ex-girlfriend, the last one of those is still on great terms with me," Hakuryuu protested. "Listen, you have no idea –"

A sudden peal of laughter from the grapefruit in two voices interrupted him, and Hakuryuu started to turn to see what was up. But alas, the stockboy whined, "Hey, don't ignore me, dude! Or why doncha just go over there and see what's going on, if you're so interested in it?!"

They argued back and forth for a couple minutes, until finally the stockboy snarled, "Okay! I'll move my cart back, you stuck-up jerkwad of a – I mean, you valued customer," he corrected himself, but not without a glare.

The minute he moved the cart, Hakuryuu took cover behind the bananas. He couldn't see what was going on, but at least Dr. Renbatz couldn't see him. All he could do was hope Seiryuu would find him and they could leave before she caught sight of him, thus negating his win over the stockboy.

"Well, thanks so much," Seiryuu was saying with a smile in his voice. "I'll make sure to follow up, on both counts. Have a great day, now."

"Bye!" Dr. Renbatz trilled.

"Bye."

A few seconds later, Seiryuu located his brother, who was rarin' to go and pushing the cart out of the produce section already. Hakuryuu asked, "Well? What happened? Isn't she just the most awful person you've ever met in your life?"

"You know, Haku," Seiryuu said, putting something into his pocket, "she's not actually that bad. I mean, yeah she's obviously horrible at the clinic, but maybe her job just stresses her out or something, that can turn people into Godzilla real fast."

"That's no excuse, and I don't believe it," Hakuryuu snapped. "Clearly she was turning on the charm for you, and you fell for it. Now c'mon, we have to get the rest of the food and get out of here before she sees me! Keep an eye out for her, and warn me so I can hide if you catch sight of the bitch."

But he was lucky, because through a combination of luck and no line at the checkout, they managed to avoid Dr. Renbatz. Hakuryuu heaved a sigh of relief as he shut his car door, because he was safe now.

"So what did you say to her?" he finally asked, as Seiryuu shifted gears. "How did you improve my life?"

"I haven't yet. This was Phase One of my plan. Next comes Phase Two, and then you'll see that your life is markedly improved. But Haku, really, I thought she was nice," Seiryuu told him, switching on the radio.

As the dulcet (yeah right) tones of Alice in Chains filled the car, Hakuryuu insisted, "It was an act. She's _evil_. She probably just saw a handsome young man and decided to try to reel you in however she could! If she'd seen me, you would have observed her true self when she insulted me for – for wearing a headband."

"I'm wearing mine," his brother pointed out, in a reasonable tone. "She didn't insult _me._"

"Yes. Well. Surely she was thinking something along the lines of 'You look like someone who's shiftless, does drugs with glee, parties all night, and wrecks property,' because she's a lot like Shashi, now that I come to think about it. Except worse," Hakuryuu grumbled, glaring out the window at a pair of toddlers throwing a tandem tantrum.

Seiryuu sighed, "Enough about Dr. Renbatz. As for Shashi… such an intelligent woman is being really dumb. We're great people! And I've seen her be nice to Tenou, and she's a doctor so she must be nice to patients, so why does she act like such a witch to _us?_"

"I think she's still under the mistaken impression that we have designs on her," Hakuryuu answered. "Our hints that it's purely, neighborly platonic seem to have gone right over her head. Unless we tell her point-blank, 'I'm not hitting on you, I just want to be your friend because it's better to have good relations with your neighbors,' it may never change. And she still might not believe us."

Seiryuu thought for a moment, then ventured, "Maybe if we had Tenou tell her that? Because some women think a guy who says that is playing a game. I remember this one time, this girl in high school told me," he adopted a falsetto voice, " 'Guys think about sex twenty-four/seven, and I'm so beautiful of course you want me! You can't have me, so there.' This was when I was dating Grace, by the way."

"You and your older women," Hakuryuu muttered.

Grace, by way of explanation, had been twenty-one to Seiryuu's seventeen. Nothing had happened that would have resulted in a fine and mark on Grace's record, but still. And yes, Seiryuu had no qualms about age differences if the woman was older. Naturally he wasn't about to date a noticeably younger woman, he was no dummy.

"Um, one word: 'hypocrite,' " he shot back in reply to Hakuryuu's comment. "Like your last girlfriend wasn't twelve years older!"

It was true, Hakuryuu shared his sibling's appreciation for someone who was older than he was, provided of course that she was kind, intelligent, attractive, and with no dependents nearing his age. This probably made them both candidates for boy toy jokes, but oh well. If older guys could date younger women and society for the most part was okay with that, why couldn't it be reversed? Older women were often much more confident in themselves anyway, unlike many younger women who slavishly bowed to societal pressures.

Oh well. Neither of them was dating anyone now, and that was fine. They had lives, and they didn't need a woman to complete their existences. It would of course have been _better _if there were somebody or a pair of somebodies, but at least they had standards.

When they got back home and put the food away, Hakuryuu realized, with a gnash of his teeth, that he hadn't gotten his tangerines. Curses! Those were his favorite, and now what was he supposed to pack in his lunch when he brought one to work? Just one more reason that Dr. Renbatz had to pay.

.

It was August 18th, and Ryuu was pissed. His father had finally landed a network deal, and while his mother was "so proud she could pop, honey!" and Alexander was as happy as if he'd had another child, their son had beaten his head against a wall. Suki, who had been over when he got the news, had sighed, "You're going to cause brain damage."

"My dad is going to be on TVs all over the country, and through the internet the world, and he's going to be making potpourri sachets!" Ryuu had nearly howled. "I may have to change schools! Oh wait! The jocks there will tease me too!"

"Personally, I think you should be happy for him. He's going to get paid for doing something he loves, and he's leading the way to break down stereotypes. Plus, maybe your family can buy a mansion, like your cousins have," she tried optimistically.

This was true. Seiryuu and Hakuryuu's dad was wealthy and they'd inherited his "save" mentality, and Alexander and Anna were not wealthy. They were certainly middle-class, which would qualify as rich in many parts of the world, but while they had a nice house and decent cars, they didn't have a mansion with soundproof walls and a pool. Heck, their cars were older models.

So were Hakuryuu's and Seiryuu's, actually, but Hakuryuu would spend hours slavering over fancy sports cars, and imagine how nice it would be when he was Dr. Waters, and he had a Maserati. He'd zoom down the freeway, his hair blowing in the wind, and if Dr. Renbatz just _happened _to step into the road one day, surely the old excuse of "It's so easy to go fast in this car" would exonerate him from murder.

But back to Ryuu's immediate family. A soldier didn't make very much, and while Anna and her husband were very wise with their money, they'd never had the luxury of thinking that someday they could afford a sports car.

That would change, Alexander had made that clear. "But we won't let money and fame change who we are," he'd said seriously. "And we'll use our money for good works, too. But think of it, son… maybe you can have your own car! And we can take trips to all sorts of neat places, multiple times a year."

Ryuu had put on a happy face, but when Alexander informed him that they'd be attending a fancy dinner with some network bigwigs, that happy face had turned to a horrified face. Because he'd have to not only take off his headband and tank tops, he would have to wear… a tux.

Ryuu had never worn a tux before, ever. He'd worn a suit only twice, at Alexander's sister's wedding, and her second wedding five years later. And he'd hated it! He liked casual clothes, dammit, and while he could handle business casual, ties sucked and he thought bowties were just the dorkiest things ever. And why the hell did tuxes include flowers, anyway?

He had managed to convince his dad to let him get fitted for one to rent by himself. There was a men's formalwear store in that giant pavilion of consumerism, the Mall of Zenmi, and that would work. So here he was, on a weekend when he should have been doing something fun, trudging through the mall full of giggling girls, swaggering boys, mall-walking oldsters, tired women, grumpy men, whiny children, overactive children, and harried parents.

He'd tried to convince Suki to come to make this less miserable, but it was her little brother's birthday and the Kazuhiko family was spending it at a state park. Ryuu wished he were out there with them, instead of here.

He and Suki were great pals now, and her family was cool too. Her dad was a business manager, her mom was a manager in a different company, and her little brother was a lovable dork. He was only eight, and convinced that life was like a movie. He kept making "clever" one-liners, and playing songs because "It's the appropriate music for this."

They were all super-polite, and kept feeding Ryuu, score! All sorts of fun food, from regular American cuisine like steak to yummy Japanese food, like udon. Oh boy, and here he'd thought ramen was good.

They were probably chowing down on hotdogs and burgers, frolicking in the sun and listening to appropriate summer music because Satoshi would insist on it, Ryuu muttered inside his head. And he was completely correct. Satoshi was blasting Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" as Mr. Kazuhiko handed Miyabi a burger, and Suki picked up a lovely freshwater clam shell on the riverbank, one with an iridescent, pearly inside.

And then, there was him, here in this hellhole of extroversion and posturing. He'd had to park on the tallest level of the parking lot, which had warned him that it would be bad inside. And it was: humongous lines in the food court, packed hallways, stressed-out store clerks, and the theme park was operating at full throttle. If he had to hear one more happy scream, he was going to snap.

But finally he made it to his destination, and told the associate, "So, um… I need a tux, for a week from now. Short notice I know, and I really hope you haven't rented out your only short, muscular guy tux to somebody else for that day."

The associate assured him, "We have many suits, in many sizes. Come along to the fitting rooms and we'll get your measurements, and have you try one on."

Ryuu obeyed, and glowered at his reflection as the associate, whose name was Renaldo, wrapped a length of measuring tape around various parts of his body, and measured his inseam too. Oh God, this was so not fun. People he didn't know touching him made him uncomfortable anyway, and he didn't even want to wear this thing!

As Renaldo went off to get the appropriate tuxedo, Ryuu grumbled aloud, "Why can't _Haku _be the one to go to the dinner and wear a penguin suit? The dude looks like a Hollywood actor in these things."

In fairness, Seiryuu did too, but like Ryuu he preferred more casual clothes. Give him jeans, a studded belt, and chains off that belt if he felt like dressing up, and the computer programmer was happy. Add a sexy shirt with a cool graphic, and he was really happy.

But Hakuryuu, though of course he loved his rocker duds too, sometimes enjoyed wearing classy clothing. It was probably a doctor thing, Ryuu decided. He cleaned up well, to use a popular phrase, and oh boy, the whole "elegant savage" vibe he had with the long hair and the tuxedo made members of the opposite sex follow him around. He didn't even pull his hair back for that, and if he ever got married, it would be loose then as well. Ryuu hoped he never would, just so he himself wouldn't have to wear another tuxedo as a groomsman.

But he suffered through putting the tux on, and taking it off, and renting it for a week from today with Alexander's credit card. He was tempted to then go on a spree down to the electronics shop, but no, that was a bad idea for a number of reasons. One of which, of course, was the fact that he wanted to get out of here.

But! He was near the candy store, he saw as he came out. And that opportunity was too good to pass up. He wasn't about to use his dad's money on that, but he had some of his own, and ha-ha, he could stash some in his room and have Swedish Fish for a midnight snack!

So he strolled on in, and surveyed the array of junk food. Lollipops, chocolates, sour balls, licorice, hard candy galore, and jellybeans, lots of those. Gummy candy too, and almost all of it looked mouth-wateringly delicious. Besides Swedish Fish, what should he get for the perfect sugary combination of awesomeness?

He went with little bag of his favorite jellybeans (sour blue raspberry), a little bag of caramels, a couple of cream-filled chocolates, a little bag of cherry hard candy, and a slightly bigger bag of Swedish Fish. He complimented himself on his restraint, because he _wanted _to buy one of nearly everything, barring the black licorice and grape-flavored stuff. And a giant sack of saltwater taffy, but he contented himself with two cotton candy ones.

But apparently he'd still gone overboard, he realized as the cashier named a high price. Damn it! He'd forgotten that candy from a mall store wasn't like candy from Target. So he had her take the caramels off, and reluctantly forked over his dough. Oh well… at least it was for something he wanted, not something he _had _to buy.

Once outside with his bag full of food dentists would lambaste him for eating, he pulled out a piece of saltwater taffy and ate it, casting a despairing eye over the corridor. It was _packed_, and it would be slow going.

But he sighed and plowed on through, and was just at the halfway point back to his car when he noticed something out of place: a little boy, sitting all by himself on a bench, his body language revealing that something was wrong. He was sniffling, giant golden eyes full of tears and adorable lower lip trembling. He was also fiddling with a high black ponytail as an obvious soothing motion, and he looked so scared Ryuu felt his heart actually twist.

"Hey kid," he asked in as friendly a tone as he could, waving at the child, "you okay?"

Apparently never having been told not to talk to strangers, the little boy wailed, "Nooo! I can't find my daddy!"

Ah. A lost child, oh boy. Well, Ryuu wasn't about to let the minor wander around and possibly get picked up by some predator, that was for sure! Yeah he himself was technically a minor, but he was sixteen years old, and thus could help and protect this poor young'un.

"Hey, don't worry," he soothed, crossing to the boy. "The thing to do is stay where you are so he's not missing you if he's trying to find you. My name's Nathan, and I'm here to help! What's yours, kiddo?"

"I'm Ashura," the kiddo replied, looking relieved. Finally, one of those taller people was assisting him instead of being too wrapped up in where they were going to notice him. Ashura was shy, and asking someone for help was just way too scary right now. And a teenager was less frightening than an adult, anyway.

Ryuu's eyebrows quirked into a "Huh?" position at Ashura's moniker, and he sighed, "Okay, obviously you've been told not to give your name out to strangers, huh kid?"

"That is my real name," Ashura insisted. "Well, my nickname anyway."

His full name was William Joseph Ashuraou, but he'd been called "Ashura" since preschool and that was how he thought of himself, and how everybody else thought of him too, including his beloved dad. Karl Ashuraou thought this was cute, but then again, he was convinced that his son was the be-all and end-all of the universe.

"Okay, Ashura, don't worry. Do you know your dad's phone number?" Ryuu asked, pulling his own out.

"Mobile phone or home phone?" Ashura asked solemnly, and Ryuu resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he answered, "Mobile phone."

"Oh! 651-988-1089," Ashura recited. Ryuu punched the number in, and then thought to ask, "What's his name? And where did you last see him? And why didn't you try to ask a security guard for help?"

Ashura replied, "His name is Karl. Karl Ashuraou. And I last saw him all the way over by the west food court, and we were heading to Toy Town when he got a call on his phone. I stopped to look at a display of puppies at the pet store, and he must've not noticed because when I looked up, he wasn't there! So I tried to catch up to him, but I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, and there's three floors and I don't know which one he's on, and the security guard I saw looked really grouchy and I'm hungry!" he blubbered, swiping at his eyes.

Ryuu made a noble and foolhardy decision then: he thrust the candy bag at Ashura and offered, "Well here, you can have a few of these while I call your dad, okay?" How much could one child eat, anyway? Surely this was fine.

"Okay," Ashura agreed, his tears disappearing at the mention of food. As he helped himself to one of the cherry candies, Ryuu hit the "dial" button on his phone, held it to his ear, and waited.

It rang only once, before a harried male voice answered, "This is Karl. Unless this is an emergency, can you call me back? I'm frantic right now, and –"

"Hey, um," Ryuu began, "I've got your kid here, and –"

"Oh my God, Ashura! Please, I'll pay you anything," Ashuraou begged frantically, "just don't hurt him! Do you want cash or check, or bonds, or stock, or – or drugs, even? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you if you don't hurt Ashura!" he promised, a hysterical tone in his voice.

Ryuu was insulted, and snapped, "Dude, I'm not a kidnapper! Your son got lost when you were on the phone, and he was too scared to talk to mall security. You wanna talk to him? He's right here. And completely and totally fine," he hastened to add.

"_Oh_," Ashuraou sighed, sounding immensely relieved. "Yes, let me talk to him, please."

Ryuu obediently passed the phone to Ashura, who warbled, "Hi Daddy! Nathy gave me food!"

"_Nathy"? Oh Gawd, this kid would be anybody's friend if they gave him food, _Ryuu thought in exasperation. _He is __so__ lucky I'm not a pedo, and lured him to my car with chocolate. Or maybe… maybe he just knows a nice guy when he sees one? I hope that's it, for his sake, honestly._

"Daddy, I was looking at puppies, and then you were gone! So I tried to find you. …That's just what Nathy said! Stay where you are! …Because I was scared. But luckily he came along, and Daddy, he gave me a whole bag of cherry candy!"

Ryuu frantically checked the bag, and it was true: his cherry hard candy was gone, just wrappers remaining. Apparently Ashura had been eating them three at a time or something, if he could finish that many when Ryuu was on the phone. Geez, this kid could put it away, so no more candy for him.

"I'm okay now," Ashura was saying. "But I want you to come get me. …Okay, here he is."

He passed the phone to Ryuu and told him, "Daddy wants to talk to you. Can I have some more candy?" he asked, using puppy dog eyes. Aw crud, Ryuu was defenseless against those.

"Just a _few_," he stressed, then took the phone and asked, "Where are you, sir? We're right outside of Hot Topic, on the second level by the Abercrombie and Fitch. Should we come to you or should you come to us?"

Ashuraou replied, "I'll come to you, stay right where you are. I'll be there as soon as I can, and young man, thank you so much. I'm in the security office right now, actually, and the staff seems relieved too. Yes, they're nodding and grinning." His voice got fainter as he said, "Thank you for your help, everyone, I'll be going now."

Then he was back to talking to Ryuu, and queried, "Is he hungry? He's often hungry."

Ryuu watched his last chocolate disappear into Ashura's mouth, and deadpanned, "Ravenous, sir. Simply ravenous."

"Oh, that's my boy," Ashuraou replied, sounding proud. "Tell him I'll bring him a treat to calm him down, won't you? And please, what's your name? He tends to give people nicknames if he likes them, and somehow I doubt 'Nathy' is your real name. I'm guessing it's something along the lines of 'Nathan,' yes?"

"Yeah. Nathan Ryuu. Well, we'll just hang out here then," Ryuu told him, prying the candy bag out of Ashura's hands as the little boy whined, "Awww."

"I'll be there shortly."

And with that Ashuraou hung up, and unbeknownst to Ryuu and Ashura, broke into a jog. Back by the Hot Topic, Ryuu scolded, "Ashura, you ate all my chocolates _and _my cherry candy _and _my last piece of saltwater taffy?!"

"I was hungry," Ashura explained, as if this meant he should automatically be forgiven. "But Nathy, your shirt has a dragon on it! It's cool. Do you like dragons?"

"I do," Ryuu smiled, forgetting his anger in the face of such cuteness and the chance to talk about himself. "Dragons are epic. My stage name for my band is 'Dragon King', and I have two iguanas named Wyvern and Draco. Both names relate to dragons," he explained to the confused Ashura.

He showed some pictures, and they talked about animals (Ashura had a gerbil named Fluffy), and by the time Ashuraou jogged into sight, Ryuu had forgiven Ashura for devouring so much of his candy. This kid was great, and funny, and was really interested in whatever Ryuu had to say, and thought he was awesome. What a nice feeling, for real, and such a contrast to school, which he was dreading going back to in the fall.

"There you are, Ashura," a relieved masculine voice broke in, and Ryuu turned to see a tall, handsome man with the exact same coloring as his new pal walking towards them, not even having broken a sweat. Well, he _was _a member of the police force, and as such kept himself in fabulous shape.

"Daddy!" Ashura downright yelled, launching himself at his father for a hug. Ashuraou hugged him back, and asked him, "Son, did you even notice the lollipop I'm carrying?"

Ryuu had. It was a gigantic lollipop, one that would take an average child a couple sittings to finish. But somehow, he had the sense that Ashura would eat it quickly and still be hungry for something else.

"Oh. Yeah! It looks yummy," Ashura giggled as his father passed it to him. "Daddy, this is Nathy. Nathy, this is my daddy."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ashuraou," Ryuu smiled, extending his hand for a shake. "Your son is very sweet. And he looks just like a younger version of you, I've gotta say."

"Yes, we resemble each other quite a bit. Now, Nathan, in thanks for helping my son…" Ashuraou pulled out his wallet, and before Ryuu could say anything, he'd brought out two hundred dollar bills, whoa. Clearly this guy had serious money, or his kid was the most important thing in the world to him, or both.

Now what? What did a Good Samaritan do when his charge's parent waved dough around? Well, the noble thing to do in this situation would be to refuse the money, and say something like, "Oh, my reward is just seeing that you and your son are together and happy again." But honestly, he'd just spent way too much on candy and Ashura had eaten most of it, and he was still trying to save up for a laptop.

Ashura ended his indecision with a happy, "Nathy, you should take it! You can buy yourself lots and lots of candy, or a dragon shirt! Yeah! And Daddy will make you take it anyway, he's really persuasive."

Ryuu's decision had been made for him! He smiled, accepted the moolah with heartfelt and very polite thanks, and added, "You know, Ashura, you want my number? Just to talk sometime?"

"YEAH!"

"What a wonderful idea," Ashuraou enthused. "Perhaps the two of you will become great friends. Ashura could use a role model besides me."

And so Ryuu became two hundred smackers richer, and both he and Ashura got the phone number of somebody who, unbeknownst to them right then, would become a lifelong pal. Ashura gave Ryuu a hug before he and his dad headed home, and kept turning back to wave at him, d'awww.

"Cute kid," Ryuu said aloud, as the two brunettes were lost to his sight. "A little too trusting, but definitely cute."

He continued on his way, and just when he was passing the cinema, he heard a surprised hail of "Nathan! Over here!" He whipped his head to the side, saw no one he knew, whipped it to the other side, ditto, and finally turned to see his cousin Seiryuu and a beautiful woman waving at him.

"Oh. Hey Sei! What a coincidence. I was here for the tux," Ryuu sighed. "So who's your friend?"

"This is Maddie," Seiryuu smiled, indicating the woman with a tilt of his head. "We're here to see 'Dost Thou Lovest Me,' you know, that adaptation of Shakespeare's 'The Merchant of Venice' with Chris Rock and Meryl Streep."

Ryuu was appalled. That movie sounded like the worst mash-up of stuffy lines, dumb humor, and Oscar-winning actresses in the world. It had gotten like one star, and that was for the costume designs and dance numbers. And Meryl Streep, who could probably act in a Pepsi ad and deserve another Oscar.

Maddie smiled at him and tittered, "Sei says he's a big fan of Meryl and Chris. I've researched it, and I think this movie sounds very cute." She said this like it was the highest compliment one could give.

"I like cute things," Seiryuu beamed, patting her hand. "Boy, I can't get enough of 'cute.' "

Ryuu was now appalled _and_ confused, because Seiryuu often lamented how so much modern anime had cute girls over sexy women who looked older than fifteen. "What happened to my jukujo?" he'd whine, glaring at some moe "sexbomb" with balloon boobs and a cookie-cutter, childlike face. Yeah he liked cute animals, but there was a difference between animal cute and downright cutesy. And didn't he once go into a rant about how romcoms should be used for torturing terrorist detainees? What the heck was going on here?

"Sei," Maddie smiled, "we should go get in line. It seems to be pretty long."

"Sure," he agreed, settling an arm around her waist. "We wouldn't want to miss the opening number! Chris Rock singing 'Falling into You'… I get chills just thinking about it."

"Bye Nathan," she giggled, laying her head on Seiryuu's chest and waving goodbye. They strolled off, and Ryuu stared openmouthed after them. This was… what the hell was this? Yeah Maddie seemed nice, and she was very pretty, but why didn't Seiryuu take her to "Rise of the Samurai Assassins," which looked awesome and had a rock soundtrack?

Ryuu closed his mouth and continued to the parking lot. This had been the strangest shopping trip in the history of the world: a lost kid with a weird name, a paranoid dad who lugged giant lollipops around for said kid, and Seiryuu Waters excited to see a musical romcom with petticoats and hose.

.

One lovely Saturday afternoon two weeks later, Hakuryuu whistled as he brushed Mittens. Ryuu was over just to hang out, and Seiryuu was upstairs getting ready for a date. Apparently he and this new girlfriend had really clicked, and were now going out to dinner instead of a movie. All Hakuryuu knew was that her name was Maddie, she was older, and Seiryuu liked her a lot.

She was coming over here, actually. To meet the kin, and "iron out any problems," as Seiryuu had smiled. Since he was unaware that there were any problems this had confused Hakuryuu, but oh well, Seiryuu did and said strange things sometimes.

Ryuu had survived the horrors of a formal dinner, but not without a lot of gritting his teeth and wanting to run away. Network bigwigs… blah. Half of them had been pulling out their phones for this thing, which was very rude and even Ryuu knew that, and he wasn't Mr. Manners. What _was _it about the corporate culture that made them wish they could glue their phones to their ears?

But some of them had been nice, he'd been surprised to see. The woman who'd sat next to him had grinned, "I bet sometimes you wish your dad was a macho man, huh?"

"Yeah," Ryuu had quietly responded, as Alexander and another diner broke into laughter over a humorous Anna story. "I get teased at school a lot, and it's embarrassing when we go out and he strikes up a conversation with some new mother about getting baby vomit stains off clothing."

"But you know, more and more men are becoming housedads," she'd pointed out. "And the culture is shifting so that men are much more involved with traditionally 'feminine' things, like cooking. Not all sectors of America," she'd allowed, "but you'd be surprised how much of our focus group was made up of 'manly men,' and how many of them thought your father was great and said they'd watch his show."

Ryuu _had _been surprised. He'd never actually viewed his dad's demonstration tape, and had finally asked, "Why?"

"Well, number one because he's funny," she'd replied. "He knows how to laugh at himself, and he has clever one-liners. Humor breaks the ice, and engages the audience. Number two because he so obviously knows what he's doing, and wants to share his knowledge."

So Ryuu had decided that maybe, just maybe, Alexander wasn't such an embarrassment after all. And of course he was proud of him, really, landing such a deal and not giving up when he'd been rejected by other networks numerous times.

Now, he thought to himself, _Dad's gonna be famous for making potpourri sachets, and I'm gonna get teased a lot… but I'd be willing to bet he'll get fan mail too, something Craig will never get once he goes off to college. After all, he's a good football player, but not a __great__ one, _Ryuu smirked.

_Ding-dong!_

"I'll get it!" Hakuryuu called, moving Mittens off his lap. "Nathan, will you take over grooming duties?"

"Sure," Ryuu answered, and Mittens immediately started purring as he did just that. Light-haired Daddy was of course the best human to get brushing from, but Teenage Boy was good too, yessiree.

Hakuryuu opened the door and felt like screaming… because Madeline Renbatz was standing on the front steps, her hair curled around her face and wearing lipstick, blush, mascara, and eyeshadow. And a fetching blouse, capris, and heeled sandals. He even saw painted toenails, oh God!

She blinked at him, shocked. "Waters. What the heck are _you _doing here?" she barked, like he was a housebreaker or something.

"I… live here," he told her stupidly, everything crashing horribly into place. That stock boy had made him miss this! His soon-to-be-dead brother had fraternized with the enemy in the worst way.

Ryuu peered around his cousin, frowning, and asked, "You know Maddie?"

Hakuryuu now felt like fainting. So had Ryuu! This meant she had to have been in his house, he thought hysterically, and his besotted kin had never thought to tell him while they'd been smiling with the demon from the main office.

"I'm his boss," Dr. Renbatz snapped. "Where's Sei? Don't tell me," she groaned, "he's your boyfriend and this was all a joke."

"He's my _brother_," Hakuryuu answered in a hiss, "and I have no idea what he was thinking when he asked you out! Seiryuu is a sneaky little –"

" 'Seiryuu'? I thought his first name was 'Sei,' " she frowned. "And that his last name was just a coincidence. Well, Waters, where is he? If you don't know and I don't know, and Nathan here doesn't seem to know either, your brother is the only one who can explain this."

Footsteps could then be heard coming down the stairs, with a whistled rendition of "American Idiot." Hakuryuu turned to see the familial idiot, and barked, "Sei! Your _girlfriend _is here! And both she and I were _exceedingly _surprised to encounter each other. Please explain why this is."

"Hey Maddie," Seiryuu smiled, then turned and said over his shoulder, "Come sit down, everybody. It's time to lay our cards on the table. Nathan, will you go get some lemonade?"

With one ear cocked for a screaming blowup, Ryuu obeyed. Hakuryuu and Dr. Renbatz followed Seiryuu, and Hakuryuu couldn't help but notice that she glared at Mittens and Mikey, who had come over to see what was going on, and took a seat as far away from the cats as possible. And it just so happened to be next to Seiryuu, great. Clearly she liked him.

But surely now Seiryuu would point and laugh, "SUCKAH! This was just to make you feel emotional pain, like you make poor Haku feel all the time at work. Oh, and I posted your number on a chat room for pervs, surely you've noticed all the obscene phone calls."

Well, not that last one, on second thought. That was mean, and Seiryuu would never do that. Still, Hakuryuu couldn't _wait _to see what happened next.

"Okay," Seiryuu began. "Maddie, since Haku began residency, you've treated him poorly, and now I have an idea why that is: you like the medical aspect of your job, and you're a genius at that part, but you hate the social part. You do best one-on-one in a casual setting with an intelligent person, not some stupid patient who read symptoms online and is convinced they've got a rare skin disease when it's really just eczema.

"And it makes you crabby, which I can totally understand. And then here comes Hakuryuu Waters, the long-haired resident, and the patients _connect _with him. Not to mention he keeps getting hit on by all the secretaries, and people honestly like him better than you. Which pisses you off, so you lay into him about the least little thing," Seiryuu sighed, as Ryuu handed him some lemonade.

Dr. Renbatz and Hakuryuu were silent, the former feeling embarrassed and the latter feeling very surprised indeed. Seiryuu went on, "That's mean. And he complains about it all the time. So I decided, well, I should try to fix that. Y'know, make his life easier. Talk to you and get you both on the same page, and start some dialogue without you being in the clinic and you, Maddie, being in charge.

"I saw you in the grocery store, and –"

"So did you just come over by the grapefruit as a joke?" she asked seriously, her eyes narrowed.

"It started out like that," he admitted, and then, just like in a cliché romcom, he rushed on with, "but then it changed! Maddie, I think you're gorgeous, and fun, and sweet, and we can forget Haku's 'hate' issues! Yeah you should treat him nicer, but I think we go well together, and if we get to know each other better, who knows where it'll take us?"

Dr. Renbatz blinked, thought, and managed a weak, "I had so much fun at 'Dost Thou Lovest Me,' Sei… but I see now that we're just not compatible. I mean, you're twenty-four and I'm forty-five. Plus I'm allergic to your cats," she sighed, sniffling a bit. "And your brother is my resident. It's a conflict of interest."

Hakuryuu waited with bated breath for Seiryuu to proclaim, "Haku can go to hell! And I'll get rid of the cats, because you've somehow hypnotized me into thinking you're a good person. Maddie, let's suck face just to piss Haku off."

Instead he sighed and nodded, admitting, "There is all that, yes. Well, Maddie, we had fun at the movie. But please, go easy on poor Haku, okay? He's sensitive."

"I suppose," she said slowly, "that a little more positive interaction would only help the clinic. But Waters," she snapped, turning to Hakuryuu, "this is because I had fun with your brother and like him, despite his deceptions, and not because I like _you_. I don't, but I can afford to ease off on you."

Well, for Dr. Renbatz, that was a big step forwards. Hakuryuu quickly replied, "Thank you, Dr. Renbatz. And of course I'll continue working hard. But, um… why do you hate my hair so much and seem to be fine with Sei's?"

"Because he's a computer programmer, not a medical professional," she answered, like this should be obvious. "Computer programmers are _supposed _to be slightly off-kilter, and edgy if they're cool enough. Dermatologists are supposed to be straight-laced. You're a handsome man and you look good with that hair wearing casual clothes, but not wearing a lab coat."

It made a twisted, bitchy sort of sense. It didn't excuse the crotch-gazing, but at least she acknowledged that his hair was attractive.

"I have to go," Dr. Renbatz muttered, standing up and shooing Mikey away. "My allergies are acting up. Thank you for the movie, Sei, and Waters, I'll see you at work on Monday. And Sei… you don't _really _have an old girlfriend's name tattooed on your pelvis, do you?" she asked with a smirk.

"Guilty," Seiryuu sighed, seeing to her the door. "But Maddie, really, I do like you. Too bad it won't work out, but oh well. Oh, and one more thing: you look _damn _good today. Maybe try it for the clinic one of these days, huh?"

And with a wave, Dr. Renbatz was gone. Hakuryuu let out a relieved breath, and ordered, "Don't you _ever _pull something like that again, do you hear me? I almost had a heart attack when she showed up. You do realize that this very well could have ended in you being slapped and me being fired, don't you?"

"It was a risk," Seiryuu admitted, then grinned and continued, "But it worked. I honestly did think she was nice, though."

"So are you sad?' Hakuryuu had to ask. "No more girlfriend."

"Not really. Like she said, we had some differences, a major one being the cat thing. And she hates rock, and pets in general. But someday Haku," Seiryuu said cheerfully, "we'll meet a babe who likes decent music and pets. When that day comes, life will be all right. And Nathan will console you when she chooses me over you, 'cause I'm the edgy one."

Hakuryuu snorted, patted Seiryuu on the shoulder a lot harder than necessary, and muttered, "When that day comes, Sei, you let _me _do the talking."

"You two are both dorks," Ryuu proclaimed, crossing his arms and smirking. "And when that babe who likes rock and pets comes along… I'm going to laugh _so _hard when she turns you both down, ha!"

.

.

(AN: Now of course there _isn't_ a movie called "Dost Thou Lovest Me" with Meryl Streep and Chris Rock, don't be silly. I just stuck two polar-opposite actors and a random Shakespeare play together for pure comic effect. But "FFX" is real, with all its associated Lulu fanservice. I actually quite like it, and on a side note… there's totally something going on between Auron and Rikku. Just sayin'.

The Greek names for Egyptian deities/pharaohs thing has bugged me ever since I found out about it. So here's my tiny contribution to the drive for non-exonyms for Kemet [ancient Egypt]. See, this installment was educational!

Oh, and of course I don't own Lady Gaga's super-fun "Hair." If only I knew how to animate things, I'd make a sequence of the "RG Veda" cast being all fanservice-y with their long, pretty hair to that song. Hopefully you guys giggled at that part, because I laughed writing it.

"Jukujo" is a Japanese term for an attractive older woman. If a bishoujo has big eyes and is all youthful and cute, a jukujo has more realistic eyes, lipstick and a longer face, and basically looks like a woman instead of a little girl with boobs. I prefer jukujo from a design perspective, and think of it like this: Kendappa and Shara are bishoujo, Kisshouten and Shashi are jukujo.

Before you ask… I wasn't pairing Ryuu with Suki. At all. Boys and girls are capable of being friends without romance, y'know! They're pals now, and hopefully will continue standing together against the forces of clique-ism.

If you liked this installment for Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, you'll probably like "New Horizons", the next-to-last chapter where they dance attendance on a certain lovely new neighbor [no, not Shashi] and add a new harp-playing member to their band, with Ryuu in tow of course. But long before that…Vahyu and Varuna! In another non-romantic installment, with Koumokuten plotting to steal Bishamonten's job, Vahyu swashbuckling, and Varuna in a therapy group. And the company picnic from Hell.)


	4. Office Slaves

**Chapter Four: Office Slaves**

_Koumokuten's a nasty boss, but Vahyu can handle it, with the help of all sorts of unprofessional activities. Varuna would rather not be fired, thanks all the same._

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(AN: Yeah, I find the two of them funny, especially Vahyu, who I have a tremendous time writing. He's just so… _vain_, and gay, gay, gay. It's fun.

So as for the warnings: voyeuristic fantasies, viewing of porn, promiscuous and pervy gayness, poking fun at therapy [I've been in it for years, I think I've earned the right to make fun of parts of it], brief locker-room nudity, adult language, and fantasies of arson and murder. Yep.

This one runs parallel to "Rock On." It starts a wee bit later, but while our favorite Dragon Tribe trio are rockin' out and dealing with their respective opposing forces, Vahyu and Varuna are slaving away, hitting on people, and dealing with Koumokuten, Tamara, and even Aguni.

You wanted to see that last fencing scene mentioned in "Adele"? You're in luck!)

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(April 27th, 2012)

"Minions!" Xavier Koumokuten yelled, slamming the conference door open. "Minions, I have an announcement."

Various Marketing managers, assistants, and peons nodded obediently. All of them were used to Koumokuten's almost pathological desire to behave like a movie villain surrounded by faceless servants, and "minions" was better than "loyal cannon-fodder office slaves."

Two in particular were used to this: Charles Vahyu, his protégé Advertising Manager, and Edward Varuna, his long-suffering assistant. Vahyu made a mental bet with himself that there would be at least three violent metaphors in this announcement, many more if it were a long one. Oh, and some sort of bragging about the overlord's family too, either his wife or his daughter.

As he crossed to the boss chair at the head of the table, Koumokuten continued, "Now as you know, we at Tenkai Corporation work very hard, and it's good to reward yourself for hard work. Which is why I'm sure all of you will be as delighted as battle-weary soldiers coming upon a peaceful oasis when I tell you we've decided when and where the company picnic will be held. Or technically, our department picnic. I myself will be invited to the overall executive company picnic, as will Edward and Charles because we're more important than the rest of you."

"Sir, can I come too?" his new secretary Hannah pleaded, waving her hand in the air.

"No. But back to the department picnic. As I was saying, since we've all been slaving away making this company money, you'll be pleased to hear a break is coming, on July 21st.

"Our picnic," Koumokuten went on, "will be at the Mosquito Lake State Park. It'll involve team-building activities, barbecues, a raffle, and prizes for the top business performers. It'll also involve my daughter Tamara serenading you all with a song I've written myself, glorifying the beauty that is Marketing. And attendance is mandatory."

Vahyu refrained from rolling his eyes as he and everyone else obediently clapped and said things like "Sounds great!" and "Count me in." No, it sounded absolutely awful. He hated mosquitoes, he hated stupid bonding activities, and most of all, he'd rather be in the office working than listening to Tamara sing. She was a brat, and he was so sick of hearing Koumokuten brag about his offspring.

"So henchmen and henchwomen," that very man continued, "work your asses off and you'll have your reward. Our picnic will be a wonderful picnic, as long as we don't get rained out. If we do, well, there's a pavilion there, and those of you who can't fit in should bring large umbrellas.

"What to bring will be assigned in a memo a week from that date. If everybody brought hotdogs and nobody brought potato salad, I'd be most displeased. But some of you will bring different kinds of food, some of you will bring eating utensils, and some of you will get a free pass, but only a few. And then we –"

Suddenly, Sting could be heard from Koumokuten's pocket: "Oh can't you see – You belong to me – And my cruel heart aches – Every step you –"

"Hi honey!" Koumokuten sang into the phone, answering it with quick movements honed by a thousand repetitions of that action. Vahyu had the distinct sense that he let the song play just because he liked it, and it reminded him of him and his wife (which was creepy). Yes, that man talked to Aguni all the damn time, when he was supposed to be working and no matter who else was around, or what he'd been doing.

The onlookers had varying reactions as Koumokuten engaged in fire-tinged sappiness. The newer and/or more nervous ones sat there awkwardly, with uncomfortable expressions on their faces. The dumber ones pulled out their own phones and began texting. The smarter ones knew what was going to happen, and kept one eye on their boss while they thought of something else.

Finally, with a fervent, "Make 'em bawl for their lardass mommies, fire goddess," Koumokuten ended the call, caught sight of the texters, and snapped, "HEY! We're in the middle of a meeting here, idiots!"

Which demonstrated a couple things. One: he had a huge double standard for himself, and Two: he was not a nice man, but everyone knew that already. Even his wife knew that, but that was one reason she loved him. It just went to show… somewhere out there, everybody has a soulmate. If they happen to be on the other side of the world too bad, but Aguni and Koumokuten had luckily (or unluckily for everyone else) crossed paths.

The meeting then went on into various projects, a cautionary tale from Koumokuten's humble beginnings as a mere manager (and no, he wasn't the one who'd made the mistake), and an exhortation of "Now remember minions, the customer is a stupid being. Exploit that, be it in advertising or pitches or anything else, and it'll translate to piles of dough."

After the meeting ended and Koumokuten swept out of the room, he turned to Varuna and ordered, "Edward, go get me more coffee, and make it snappy. I've got a meeting in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Mr. Koumokuten sir," Varuna obediently answered, and went on down to get his boss some caffeine. But he was distracted and thinking about the upcoming horror that would be a picnic for this department, and thus made a big mistake: he got the order wrong. He ordered a caramel frappuccino, and that would cost him.

When he handed the cup to Koumokuten, the black-clad terror took one sip and frowned, leaving his assistant with a sinking feeling. Oh no, not again!

"Edward!" Koumokuten snarled, making Varuna meekly reply, "Yessir?"

"How hard is it to get a coffee order right?" Koumokuten demanded, shoving the frappuccino back into Varuna's hands. "Every damn time, I want a caramel macchiato, and half the time, you bring me an English toffee macchiato, or a caramel frappuccino, or some other bilge I refuse to drink. Why, you brainless dork?"

"It's not half the time, sir," Varuna protested. "It's actually rarely that I –"

"I require perfection! See, my _prior _assistants could get this right. Walter never, _ever _got my order wrong, and if one Starbucks was out of something, he went on to the next one because I need my perfect drink," Koumokuten snapped imperiously.

Varuna felt like saying, "But if I did that, I'd be late, and then you'd really lay into me! And maybe I do forget what you want sometimes, I'm busy and have a lot to think about, but you don't have to refuse to even _try _the other one. It's still coffee, sweetened coffee with lots of cream, and you act like it's poison!"

Instead, he quavered, "I'm sorry, Mr. Koumokuten sir. I'll do better next time."

"See that you do," Koumokuten grumbled, and as Varuna went off to Starbucks down on the first floor for the second time in ten minutes, he wondered if he'd ever make his boss truly proud of him.

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Three days later, Varuna and Vahyu found themselves in a room filled with company heavyweights. Besides the CEO Arthur Taishakuten, all three "Generals of the Boardroom" were there: Reginald Bishamonten from Expansion, Aaron Zouchouten from Research and Development, and of course, Xavier "Evil Marketing Motherfucker" Koumokuten from, well, Marketing. Also present were the Senior VPs' assistants, James Yasha, Ellen Karura, and Varuna, plus Taishakuten's assistant Nina Souma.

There were a couple other managers besides Vahyu, and two secretaries as well: Hanranya Seering, the devoted Taishakuten office slave, and Victor Kujaku, the irreverent Bishamonten asset/thorn in his side. Taishakuten's second secretary, Kuyou, was not present because she hadn't worked today. She would have hated this party anyway.

It was a little gathering to celebrate Taishakuten's birthday, although of course there would be a bigger, _better _party this evening. This was just the work party, and while no one had been _required _to get him a gift, Hanranya had earlier handed him a gift-wrapped basket of golf balls, three movies he'd mentioned that he liked but didn't have, and premium chocolates. He hadn't thanked her at all, because that was how he operated.

The party was catered, of course. It was also in the Entertaining Suite, which Varuna had only been in once before, and he was impressed. How posh was this? At the very top of the skyscraper, the Entertaining Suite made one think of a movie, really. Any second now he expected to see Bruce Wayne (er, Christian Bale) pop out of a secret passage in the wall.

"Happy Birthday, sir," Bishamonten said fervently, hoisting his glass in a toast as everyone else obediently followed suit. "For forty-four glorious years, you've blessed the earth, and here's to many, many more!"

There was an immediate chorus of agreement, even though more than seventy-five percent of the people here privately hoped Taishakuten would get hit by a bus later today. Even Zouchouten and Koumokuten thought he was a jerk – in fact, Bishamonten and Hanranya were the only people in this room who liked him as a person, not just because he paid them.

The CEO smirked, "Why thank you, Reginald. I trust your gift tonight at the party will be just as good as last year's."

Last year's gift had been a three-way pooling of funds to buy Taishakuten a new Mercedes, one with a little crown hood ornament and a license plate that said "THUNDER," because the man adored thunder and lightning. Koumokuten had pushed for a black car, Zouchouten had pushed for a red car, but Bishamonten had prevailed and Taishakuten had received a silver car, which he liked better anyway.

This year, Koumokuten was giving him a detailed sculpture of the Hindu thunder god Indra standing atop a defeated enemy and holding his head aloft, commissioned from a very expensive sculptor from New York City. Zouchouten was giving him season passes to the Palace Theater, which was the most expensive, snootiest theater in the city. And Bishamonten…

Well, besides his undying business devotion, Bishamonten was giving Taishakuten a new speedboat, for one of his vacation mansions. Naturally he didn't have the boat ready to whip out, but he had the deed and the assurance that it had been delivered to the beachfront mansion in the Bahamas. Taishakuten would be pleased, he was sure.

As people broke off into little groups for conversation, Vahyu smoothed a lock of wavy hair away from his gorgeous face, cast his long-lashed eyes over the room as a whole, and wondered who he should hit on this time. His latest love affair had flamed out (the other man had bawled that he didn't deserve the paragon of awesomeness that was the Ad Manager), and while of course he could pick a guy up from pretty much anywhere, right now he was looking for someone he knew, someone who _deserved _him. He needed a man who wasn't starstruck, and this was a good place to find one.

Vahyu, you see, was one of those men who invited worship, from both sexes. He took great care of his appearance, and sent out the "Adore me!" vibe. His underlings kept competing for his favor, and because he motivated them so well, Koumokuten let him get away with shenanigans that would have gotten him fired many times over in another company. He slept with his (male) secretaries, he slept with his (male) rank-and-file, he slept with (male) lower managers, and he promoted those he got with while ignoring the hard work of women and straight men. It was downright terrible, but at least it helped to make the company money. After all, Vahyu's lovers proved their devotion through their work, which translated to more dough for Tenkai Corporation.

Well, now he wanted someone who wasn't an underling. He'd been with lots of those too, and hit on any man even remotely attractive at all. A beer vendor at a baseball game, a plethora of male strippers, and even a lumberjack were those he counted as his conquests, alongside many others.

_Eenie, meenie, minie, mo, _he thought, his eyes alighting on various male occupants of the room. _Beefcake, beautiful, creepy, grumpy, happy-go-lucky, or secretly gay overlord?_

He left Varuna out, because Varuna was a friend and friends didn't hit on friends who needed a hair makeover. Maybe if Varuna had accepted Vahyu's generous offer of a salon package, but he hadn't so that was his own fault. He'd lost out, poor man.

And he left Koumokuten out too, on second thought, because while Aguni insisted that her husband was sexy, Vahyu was unconvinced. And on third thought, Taishakuten was out of the running as well, as he was terrifying and might burn the fields of Vahyu's work power and salt them, if there was the slightest hint of homoeroticism directed at him.

But Vahyu could tell he was gay. He'd seen Taishakuten's eyes follow his "best friend" Karl Ashuraou, and even for this company his hair was long and girly. Then there was the obvious cover girlfriend, the one Bishamonten kept lusting for. Yes, Taishakuten was a man who liked men, but while Vahyu certainly _wished _he weren't such a psycho, the Ad Manager was going to play it safe and write him off.

So that left four: beefcake, beautiful, grumpy, and happy-go-lucky. But wait, if he hit on Yasha again Kujaku might attack him with a stapler, and if he hit on Kujaku again Yasha might snap and hurl him down an elevator shaft while Kujaku waved "Bye-bye." So grumpy and happy-go-lucky were out of the running as well, which was such a shame.

Okay, two. Beautiful, beefcake, beautiful, beefcake…

"Charles?" Zouchouten asked, frowning at him. "Why are you pointing at me and Reginald like you're trying to choose between us?"

Beautiful! Beefcake would just have to console himself with his assistant, one of those not-sexy _women. _

"Never mind, Aaron," Vahyu smiled.

He would hit on Bishamonten, and give that handsome man the chance to explore his gay side. There had to be one, because what kind of straight man wore a ponytail that high? And _surely _someone so pretty _had _to like men too, because it was how life worked! Never mind what naysayers would tell you, being a beautiful man automatically translated to being bi- or homosexual, Vahyu was certain.

He considered what line to use. "Reginald, would you like to _take over_ my body"? No, that might net him some rough stuff, ow. So not that one.

"Oh Reginald, that wife of yours isn't good enough for you and Dr. Bitch won't give you what _I _will"? No, that might remind Bishamonten of his hetero side, which was the last thing Vahyu wanted to do. Not to mention that the head of Expansion would loudly protest that he didn't have a thing for Shashi, even when he clearly did.

Hey, how about, "Say Reginald… you have gorgeous eyes"? Yes! The man had the most beautiful eyes Vahyu had ever seen, shining black like the night sky, with sooty lashes that stained his flawless skin like ink (wow, these were such good descriptions, he'd have to remember them for when they were in bed).

He allowed himself to fantasize about it, holding his sparkling juice absentmindedly with a faraway, pervy smirk on his face. Bishamonten would be hesitant at first, never having done anything with men before, but soon Vahyu's studliness would reduce him to a gasping, desperate swain. In fact, he'd be so desperate he'd let Vahyu be in charge, what a shame. They'd share fiery, manly kisses, and explore each other's gorgeous, sculpted bod–

"Hey Charles? Charles, guess what! They're letting us have as much cake as we want!" Varuna said happily, holding a plate with three pieces. He had shattered Vahyu's lovely sex daydream, the nerve.

"Yay," Vahyu sarcastically replied. "Now we can all gain as much weight as we want. Edward, three? One is fine if you work it off like I do, but three is just _asking _for excess body fat," he finished with a grimace.

"I like cake," Varuna told him petulantly. "And this is good cake. And I'll work it off too, so don't judge me! Why, Aaron's having three pieces too," he pointed out, indicating Zouchouten.

Yes indeed, he was. But for a man with that sort of build, he'd have to eat more than three pieces of cake to get fat.

Vahyu strolled over to Bishamonten, ever so casually. The Expansion VP was chatting with Yasha and Hanranya over their plans for the weekend. Just as Hanranya was saying, "I'm going to work in my garden," Vahyu cut in with, "Reginald, I have an idea what you could do over the weekend!"

"Oh, do you now?" Bishamonten murmured, suddenly looking a bit wary. Hmm, it would require a delicate touch here.

"Well, you know, a group of friends and I are going to the theater on Saturday," Vahyu lied, "and one of them bowed out and we've already bought his ticket. Would you like to come instead?"

Bishamonten proceeded to violently dash his hopes with a firm, "No. I'm doing something with my _wife_, and why do I get the sense that this is a setup to hitting on me? Charles, leave me alone, or I'll tell Xavier that you're bothering me."

Rejection and a threat! Without even giving him a try. Phooey.

But Vahyu was good at thinking on his feet, and he trilled, "Oh, I wasn't hitting on you at all! But all right, that's okay. I don't suppose James or Hanranya would like to come?" he offered, bluffing his opponents. Surely neither of them would really be interested in seeing a play with him, anyway.

And he was right. Yasha muttered, "No," and Hanranya sighed, "No thank you." Vahyu smiled, nodded, and pretended to catch sight of a fascinating conversation partner, then moved off to get some more sparkling juice.

Oh well, there was always next time. And really, being yelled at by Koumokuten was something Vahyu disliked. It had happened a few times before, once when the Ad Manager had shown up at Bishamonten's hotel room door, and again when he'd been caught making out with a secretary in a darkened conference room, and a powerful foreign executive had walked in.

Vahyu appraised Zouchouten again, wondering if he should go for a consolation prize. If he couldn't have beautiful, beefcake would do. And once Zouchouten had become a lovesick devotee, Vahyu would order him to get rid of those stupid sideburns. And then they could romp around being manly and clean-shaven together, and it wasn't like Karura would care about such a thing, right?

Once again, he let his mind wander off to a fantasyland. They'd be all alone, in his penthouse apartment, and he'd get that man out of his suit. And oh wow, his body would be glorious! Vahyu could probably bounce a quarter off those pecs, or abs, or anything really, and Zouchouten would say something like, "Charles, your stunning masculine beauty is astounding."

Surely that would be how it would go, never mind that Zouchouten had freaked out when Vahyu had approached him in a hot tub six years ago. And surely he would forget Karura when Vahyu demonstrated his myriad talents in bed.

In reality, Zouchouten would never, _ever _go over to the Ad Manager's apartment alone for one, and if hit on over there he'd leave after some bellowing. And if by some miracle Vahyu succeeded in taking off any article of clothing, he would snatch it back and punch him, then sue.

The gay terror of the office was just about to walk over to Zouchouten and begin his opening gambit, when Karura smiled at her boss. Zouchouten smiled back, looking hopelessly infatuated to Vahyu's discerning eye, and he decided that it wasn't going to work. Maybe when Zouchouten finally made a move and Karura turned him down, but not now, alas. Oh well. There was always that sexy pharmacist at Walgreen's.

As Vahyu plotted what line to use with the sexy pharmacist (maybe "Your love would _supplement _my life with no adverse side affects"?), Varuna finished his third piece of cake. Oh boy, that had been yummy. He wouldn't be hungry for a while, either. That was good, because he wouldn't get a break until he punched out three hours from now.

But this party would last for another half-hour, so he looked around the room trying to find a conversation partner. Vahyu had his "I'm stalking a man" look on his face, so Varuna wasn't going to try to talk to him, but maybe… oh! Maybe Souma!

They weren't really friends, and in fact Souma thought Varuna was a doofus with a puffed-up sense of his own abilities, but she never said anything to his face and he had the brains not to insult her. She could be very scary, something most people overlooked given her boss. Taishakuten tended to overshadow anyone else's intimidation, but Varuna had seen Souma lay the verbal smackdown on foes, and he knew that she took kung fu too.

She was getting herself some more sparkling juice, so he crossed over to her and greeted, "Hi Nina. How's it going?"

"It's going well, thank you Edward," she returned with a slight smile. "By the way, did James tell you he's in line for another award, this time for the Garrett account? I have to say _I _was impressed by his work, and so was Taishakuten."

Varuna glowered. Yasha had the unofficial title of "Best Executive Assistant," and earned much, much more than he himself did.

_That's completely unfair… why can't __I__ be "Best Executive Assistant"? I could do it. Mr. Bishamonten is much more reasonable than Mr. Koumokuten, so of __course__ James excels. If __I__ worked for Mr. Bishamonten, I'd be the best too! And even James wouldn't be able to constantly please Mr. Koumokuten, it's humanly impossible, _he muttered inside his head.

Yes, he was jealous of Yasha. Why did _he_ get such praise? Surely if Varuna were given the chance, he'd be just as good. If their positions were switched, he was willing to bet Yasha would end up fired. (He wouldn't, but this was just what Varuna believed.)

He let himself imagine it:

Yasha would get Koumokuten's coffee order wrong; say something like, "That idea is ludicrous, I have a better one"; unknowingly insult Vahyu with Koumokuten watching, and Vahyu would make a big deal out of it (being the drama king he was); fail at stroking Koumokuten's ego because he hated him; and then, make the biggest mistake one could make around the Marketing VP: suggest, "Sir, why don't you stop calling your wife and focus on your work?"

Well, that would be it then. No more James Yasha, Best Executive Assistant! Meanwhile, Varuna would be shining with Bishamonten. He'd compliment his wife's art; find a clever one-liner to skillfully diffuse Kujaku's childishness, and then they'd all get along; demonstrate his knowledge of his boss's schedule and needs; and make sure to say the one thing that tended to endear you to the Expansion VP: "Isn't Mr. Taishakuten great?"

"Edward, are you okay?" Souma asked in concern after receiving no response but a glower and a long silence. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just thinking that _my _boss never recommends _me_ for any awards," he grumbled, which was true. "In fact, mostly what he does is yell at me, and when he's not yelling at me, he's making me do things like pick up cakes for his daughter, and drive her around town, and stuff like that he never pays me extra for."

She sighed, "That must be awful. And you're certainly not the first assistant he's had who hates doing it. On my end, at least Taishakuten leaves me alone once I leave work."

Which was good, because she despised him and spent much of her time imagining just how he should be punished for his cruelty. Yes, Souma was nursing a major grudge against Arthur Taishakuten, and couldn't _wait _for the day he fell from his pedestal of business authority.

"Yeah, Mr. Koumokuten has both my home and mobile phone numbers, and he calls at any time," Varuna whined. "And he says it's part of my job to run his errands! Oh, and did I mention he made me deliver a gift to his sister-in-law, Pam Steel? She had three screaming children, and she forced me to have some tea!"

Souma was surprised that Aguni had siblings. She'd thought the gym teacher had surely been an only child, because who would risk having another kid like her? In reality Aguni was the second-oldest of four, but oh well.

Souma murmured, "Screaming children are always a hassle. And let me guess, she didn't even thank you."

"No, she did, but she was really, really pushy. She made me meet all her kids, and introduced me to them as 'Your uncle Xavier's assistant.' She didn't even remember my name," he muttered, still upset about that. "That's how it is for me, you know? I'm known as his assistant, like I have no worth beyond that."

"Surely it's not _that_ bad," Souma tried, patting his shoulder.

From across the room, Koumokuten watched this interaction with a knowing smirk on his face. Looked like Short Skirt Souma was finally hitting on a man! Well, it was inevitable, right? Didn't all women who wore outfits like that want to attract a companion of the masculine persuasion? Here he was laughably wrong: Souma was a lesbian, and wore short skirts mostly because she liked how she looked in them, although if she got sexy women's attention that was even better. She was holding out hope that someday she would find her perfect woman, who she had dubbed "My Lady."

Varuna, ignorant of all this and still in the mood to complain, went on with, "James and Ellen have it easy. Why is _he _Best Executive Assistant when Mr. Bishamonten doesn't make him slave away?"

"Because he works hard, and he is," she flatly replied. "Mr. Bishamonten may not be as mean or demanding as Mr. Koumokuten, but James's job is harder and his boss is still someone who requires constant work."

Varuna glared some more, said something under his breath about Yasha being overrated, and went to have a fourth piece of cake.

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That evening, it was time for something that was both good and bad – therapy group, at the Sound Mind Psychotherapy Clinic. Varuna had been urged to attend this group by a friend of his, one who'd sworn by it. She'd proclaimed, "It turned my life around, getting a chance to talk my feelings out and learn from other people and the therapists. I know you're under a lot of stress from your job, so try it!"

Unfortunately, he'd been put into a different group than she was in. _Her _group was made up of four other people who, while they didn't see eye-to-eye on everything, respected each other's opinions and made sure to share the time. _His _group, alas, was the exact opposite.

For one, he was the only man. That was a bit unnerving, being told to "let his tears out" among a bunch of women and listen to talk of PMS. For another, two of the women disagreed on everything, and didn't respect each other's opinions in the least. For a third, one them tended to hog the conversation, and another of them hardly spoke at all, no doubt terrified of everybody else.

The therapist himself was good. His name was Stanley, and Varuna liked him. Whenever Stanley spoke, he learned something, at least when it wasn't, "Calm down, let's respect each other, etc." Varuna had picked up some helpful skills, but boy, if it were just him and Stanley, he would have picked up an awful lot more.

Today's session began like all the others: with check-in, which involved Mr. Huggles, the talking plushie. Not that he actually talked, mind you, you just had to have him to talk… in theory, anyway. Mr. Huggles was a rabbit, a cartoon rabbit with a goofy smile and wearing a pair of overalls. He was bipedal, and of course he was white because that was the stereotypical rabbit color, never mind that the majority of rabbits, in fact, were _not _white. And he had eyelashes, surrounding googly brown eyes (red eyes were just too creepy for a plushie, the manufacturers had thought).

Varuna listened attentively as Lynn described her week. They used only first names here, like kindergarten or something. Be that as it may, Lynn was one of the women who disagreed with another one on everything, and often others too. She was a teacher, which made Varuna wonder if her students knew how lucky they were that she didn't blow up at them. Then again, judging by some of the horror stories she told, they were lucky they weren't suspended.

After Lynn, it was Diane's turn. Diane was the one Lynn hated, and Stanley made them sit next to each other to "get you used to each other and desensitize both of you." So far it hadn't worked, because Diane was so narcissistic it was unreal. Seeing as Lynn dealt with narcissistic tweens for a living, Varuna wasn't surprised at all that she hated the waitress.

And Diane _never shut up. _She was the one who hogged the conversation, and if Stanley hadn't stopped her, they would have had to listen to her and talk about her issues the entirety of every session. Gawd, this woman desperately needed to STFU.

But finally Stanley pried Mr. Huggles away from Diane and reminded her, "Diane, check-ins are supposed to only be five minutes, tops."

Varuna had the sense that she knew that, and just didn't care. That was how she operated, and he honestly couldn't blame Lynn for hating her. He disliked her too, not that you were allowed to say that. Even when a group member was gone, you couldn't badmouth them. It made sense, but boy, it sure made it hard, not being able to vent and get some validation.

"And Edward," Stanley smiled, passing him the talking plushie, "would you like to tell us about _your _week? And rate your mood on a scale of one to ten, one being the worst, ten being the best?"

"Yes," Varuna replied obediently, accepting Mr. Huggles. "My mood's at a… um, a five, I guess. But anyway, today my boss –"

"How about suicidal ideation or therapy-interfering urges?" Stanley reminded him patiently. "It's important that we keep track of them too, Edward. On a scale of one to ten, one being a few and ten being all the time, how high are your urges and ideation?"

Varuna was very tired of the "one to ten" scale, and the way you had to cover it every single session. And since his answer never changed ("No ideation whatsoever, no urges whatsoever"), he thought it was a giant waste of time. But Stanley insisted on it, so he had no choice but to go along with the stupid thing.

"Zero and zero," he sighed, and then continued with, "My boss said today –"

"My boss told _me _to stop talking to my boyfriend!" Diane whined, cutting him off completely. "And he made me hang up too! In the middle of a conversation, I tell you! The nerve of that bastard!"

"Diane –" Stanley began, trying to bring her back in line, but was interrupted himself.

"Edward was talking, Diane!" Lynn snapped, shaking a finger. "You're so rude, always steamrollering over everybody else's –"

"Lynn, don't call her that," Stanley scolded. "And Diane, please remember that you don't have Mr. Huggles right now. Now, everybody, let's take a deep breath and count to ten, okay? Deep belly breathing, visualize your happy place, and let all your stress drain out through your shoes."

Varuna obeyed, used to this. Therapy group was a nonstop battle between forceful personalities, and he often wondered how Stanley could take it. Stanley just must have made really, really good use of mindfulness and relaxation skills, that was his only answer.

"Okay," Stanley said after a minute, "let's continue with check-ins. Edward, did you have anything else you want to say?"

"Yes I do. I'm so nervous about this picnic I can't believe it. You all know how my boss is a villain, and his family is awful too. I faked the flu for our last company picnic, so I can't do that again. But I _really _don't want to go to it! If my boss and his family weren't there it would be okay, but of course they will be. His daughter's even going to sing a song!" Varuna lamented, fighting the urge to put his head in his hands and bawl.

"If you had to describe your emotions in one word," Stanley asked soothingly, "what would it be?"

Many words flashed into Varuna's mind: "harried," "stressed," "fearful," "apprehensive," "frightened," and "scared" being but a few. But he went with, "Nervous. I mean, it's bad enough dealing with my boss in the office, but dealing with him in a non-structured thing will be worse. Of course he'll have all the power, and I don't know what he'll order me to do."

"Maybe you should _tell _him how nervous you are," Fanny suggested. She was the oldest, a sixty-seven-year-old mother of five, and she seemed to think being honest at all times was the way to live your life. Needless to say, she was sheltered.

"No Mr. Huggles, Fanny," Stanley reminded her. "But Edward, what do you think of that idea?"

_I think it's a sure method of business suicide, _Varuna thought, but replied, "I don't think that would work. He'd zero in on me. But here," he passed the plushie over to her, "I'm done checking in, but I'd like some time later."

As Stanley made a note about that on the whiteboard, Fanny began, "My mood's at a six, and my ideation and urges are zero. But my daughter Catherine – you all remember Catherine, she's my youngest – still refuses to go back to being a regular woman and insists on being a lesbian! I'm at my wit's end trying to bring her back in line before my pastor finds out."

Now personally, Varuna was a-okay with lesbianism. In fact, he was one of those men who thought female-on-female was the hottest thing in existence. Unlike some of them, he wasn't a hypocrite who couldn't comprehend why a man would like another man but slavered over two women; he just figured it took all kinds, and he could acknowledge that lots of men were handsome. Not attractive at all to him, but handsome.

But _lesbians… _those were his go-to porn preference. What could be more wonderful than two beautiful women doing things with no man in the shot at all? Nothing! His goal for his life (well, one of them) was to stumble upon a pair of lipstick lesbians who would let him watch as they got all passionate. And if he were _really _lucky, maybe they would actually be bi women who wanted each other, and _then _–

"I keep telling her what a sin against nature and God it is," Fanny went on, "but she keeps pulling out all this 'evidence' from therapists and scientists that I _know _is an atheist lie. If it's written in the Good Book, it's clear God condemns it! And why would you go against God?"

"If I may play devil's advocate here," Stanley replied, and Varuna perked up, "a lot of Christians I know have accepted that homosexuality can't be changed, and is something that –"

"Then they're not _real _Christians!" Fanny snapped. Why, forget that they believed in the Resurrection, dissenting on an archaic rule written by a fundamentalist group of Jewish people meant that they weren't Christian at all! If you didn't take the Bible literally, surely you were secretly an atheist. Or being led astray by Satan.

Group went downhill from there. The last woman, the nineteen-year-old Hailey, only spoke to give her numbers and pass on time; the discussion on how Varuna could handle the picnic was cut short by a Diane tangent; and finally, at five minutes to the end, Lynn blew up at her. That meant they all had to take extra meditation time, and listen to that goddamned "Ocean Waves" CD. If Varuna never heard the cry of a seagull or a wave again, it would be too soon.

As he drove home, he pondered the fact that group therapy so far hadn't worked out for him. Maybe it was time to find a one-on-one therapist, where he could talk about his issues the entire time, and say things like, "I love lesbians. I hate my boss and want to murder him. I hate pushy people, and my last group sucked and I didn't like any of them. And I _despise _listening to ocean sounds for meditation."

So when he got home, he made a little note in his smartphone to privately ask Stanley to recommend a good psychologist for individual therapy, and just to make himself feel better, he viewed some lesbian porn.

.

The very next day, as Varuna passed Koumokuten his caramel macchiato, the color-phobic jerk asked, "So has Nina put out yet?" with a smirk.

"…What?" was all the confused Varuna could summon. Was this some sort of test? Koumokuten liked putting his employees to the test, and when they answered wrong, they got yelled at.

"Has. Nina. Put. Out. Yet?" Koumokuten repeated, in his "talking to a mentally retarded person" voice: slow, deliberate, and condescending. "Well? Answer my question, Edward. Or do I have to repeat it a third time?"

"Nina and I are just – well, coworkers, sir," Varuna replied, feeling very confused. Where had _this _come from? Souma was pretty and all, but she scared him and he could tell she thought he wasn't mate material. He didn't think she was, either, but maybe Vahyu had spun a wild tale for fun? Or Taishakuten had done it, because he liked making people uncomfortable?

"I saw her hitting on you at Taishakuten's birthday party," Koumokuten said loftily. "Don't try to deny it. Unless maybe you didn't pick up on it, being so slow on the uptake."

"She was giving me some advice," Varuna lied, because he wasn't about to say, "She was commiserating with me over awful bosses." "About getting into martial arts, I said I wanted to learn how to break boards, and –"

"One word: 'kickboxing,' " Koumokuten replied seriously. "My wife and I do that. And if we ever get approached by a mugger, even if he has a weapon, that is one dead little punk, and yes I'm speaking literally. Forget kung fu, go with kickboxing. But anyway, I still think she might have a thing for you."

Varuna said nothing else, but still didn't believe his superior. When _Bishamonten _said Souma was hitting on him, then he'd believe it because Bishamonten knew everything in this skyscraper, or near enough. As it was, he was pretty sure that Koumokuten was reading too much into it, and he was right.

That lunch, he mentioned it to Vahyu, who snorted, "Nina would never hit on you. She thinks your hair's dumb."

Varuna's hand immediately went to the wavy forelock he loved so much, and he snapped, "My hair is unique and edgy. It works for me. But Charles, that man is probably going to keep making innuendos and harassing me about it! Just like he harasses me for everything else I do."

"He does like laying down the law," Vahyu admitted. "I actually think his hobby is making people cry, I really do."

Varuna pleaded, "You have to _help _me. My life sucks, and it's all because of him! He's even – he's even ruined my dating life!" he babbled hysterically. "He makes me so nervous it carries over to the bar scene, and of course they all turn me down because they can tell I'm neurotic!"

"That's not Xavie's fault, and –"

"Yes it is! It _so _is! His evil has spread to the corners of my mind, to the point I can't hear someone say the word 'fire' without having to jump and look over my shoulder. And coffee… I used to love coffee, and now I hate it! I have to drink energy drinks for my caffeine, and I used to be a coffee connoisseur!" Varuna ranted, his voice getting louder and louder.

"So what you need to do," Vahyu said seriously, "is find a way to make your life in this company easier. Seduce a sexy secretary! Use company funds for fancy lunches. Be passive-aggressive in ways he won't notice, or he won't know _you _did it. I mean, c'mon, I love my job not only for the chance to be creative and make money, but for all the perks I get for being such a genius."

Varuna stared for a moment, and then deadpanned, "Well, _that's _the best way to get fired I've ever heard."

"You just need to _earn _it," Vahyu insisted. "Work harder, and then he'll let you get away with things. I mean, I'm his favorite employee, and I could probably get away with murder! Provided it was a cubicle dweller that nobody liked, at least," he amended with a smirk.

"I am not going to do anything that might jeopardize my position," his friend informed him. "But maybe you're onto something about working harder. Maybe, if I prove that I'm just as good as James, he'll lay off!"

"Might as well try it," Vahyu agreed, "if you aren't going to seduce a secretary."

.

The next weekend, Vahyu was driving to the company rec center, humming "I'm Too Sexy" and clad in flattering workout clothes. He'd gotten with the pharmacist and added that notch to his bedpost, which if it were a literal one would now be whittled down to a stump.

He pulled up to the gate, flirted with the guard on duty, and parked in the parking lot of the building most people never got to see too closely, but many wished they could. It was nicer than a lot of suburban rec centers, and boy, the average for those was impressive. It was in a suburb, actually, but the public was kept out, along with most of the company's rank and file except for retreat days.

Yes, Tenkai Corporation's Recreational Facility was a gem. Swimming pools, track, weight rooms, basketball courts, badminton courts, volleyball courts, squash courts, and even giant trampolines, not to mention movie theaters and water slides. Only the executives and those they deemed worthy could play on this playground, and Vahyu gave himself a pat on the back that he was one of the worthy.

Today he went to the weight room, and happened to find his boss already there, listening to Metallica and grinning as he bench-pressed more than Vahyu could ever hope to. But that was okay! Vahyu was still strong and muscular, and he was so much more handsome anyway. Poor Koumokuten had to console himself with a good physique, as even plastic surgery wouldn't help his face enough.

"Sir," Vahyu chirped, "good afternoon!"

No response, as Koumokuten had his earbuds in. Oh well, Vahyu could do the same. Alas, when he tried to sing along to Katy Perry's "Firework" Koumokuten snarled, "Be quiet, Charles! I hate inspirational pop."

Hmph. Clearly Koumokuten couldn't appreciate Vahyu's mad covering skillz, or his wonderful voice. Well, maybe if Vahyu had sung some awful rock song, like – oh, like Slipknot or something, but he hated screamed, jarring, discordant music. Maybe someday he'd compromise and sing some Bon Jovi, Bon Jovi was good rock.

He finished his reps with the dumbbells, and went onto the barbells. By this time Koumokuten had moved on to the track, which meant Vahyu could sing as loud as he wanted, yippee! Oh sure, singing while lifting weights used up much-needed breath, but hey, it kept his motivation up. Not that he wasn't motivated to look fabulous anyway, but having a rhythm helped.

_I am such a deity, _he thought to himself as he stretched for the basketball court. _My body is glorious, and yesterday I got not one but __two__ model offers when I was out in the city. Poor fashion scouts, much as I'd like to be on the catwalk flaunting high-class designs, my creative job is what I love!_

"Oh. Hello, Charles," Bishamonten's voice came from behind him. "Would you like a quick pickup game?"

Vahyu turned to look, and his heart skipped a beat. It should be a law that Bishamonten had to wear no sleeves at work, he decided, because while the man looked great in a suit, in Vahyu's opinion he looked even better in a tank top and shorts. It was rather incongruous to his regular image, but Vahyu sure wasn't complaining.

"Sure I would, Reginald," he agreed with a winning smile. "First one to fifteen wins?"

"Sounds reasonable."

Unfortunately for Vahyu, watching your opponent's assets as you tried to win at basketball tended to make you lose. He managed to get one three-point shot in, but soon Bishamonten sank his last basket and smirked, "And that's fifteen. Charles, I don't think basketball is your sport."

Vahyu almost said, "No, my sport is man-riding, and I'm the world champion," but instead replied, "Well, I can't be good at _everything_, Reginald."

Bishamonten offered, "What about badminton? Although I should warn you that I'm nearly unbeatable at it. I once beat Aaron four times in a row, and Xavier after that." After which Taishakuten had demanded a turn and beaten Bishamonten, but only because his head of Expansion had let him win (he wasn't stupid in the least).

"No thank you," Vahyu sighed; he hated losing. "I think I'll go to the squash court instead."

After wiping the floor with Caroline from HR, he decided to call it a day. He picked his designer gym bag up, showered with a pout that only a fat guy was there with him, and made sure to blow-dry his hair while only wearing a towel, just in case Bishamonten or some other attractive man came in right then.

Unfortunately, just as he was buckling his belt, Koumokuten came into the locker room, dripping wet from his own shower and holding a (black) towel around his own waist. Oh well, Vahyu could just avoid looking at his face and look at his chest. And then, after pulling out his own regular clothes, Koumokuten took that towel off while musing, "Y'know, I think it's time to get my hair trimmed again, the bangs are getting too long," to no one in particular.

Vahyu stared at his boss, surprised. So _that _was why a beautiful woman like Aguni was with somebody as not-beautiful as –

"Hey! Charles, stop it!" Koumokuten snarled, blocking Vahyu's view with his clothes. "Sicko, don't you ever look at me like that again! If you don't apologize I'll push for a separate locker room for the gay folk, you deviant little pervert!"

"Sorry! I was just staring into space thinking, and you happened to be in my line of sight," Vahyu said hastily, jerking his gaze up to his boss's furious face.

Koumokuten didn't buy it, and growled, "Turn around and face away until I'm dressed. That's an order, fag boy. And if you ever check me out again, I'm gonna punch you in the face and break your aristocratic nose, got it? And fire you, too, and no lawsuits about discrimination are gonna get you your job back, not like you'd win anyway."

Vahyu immediately obeyed, and protested, "I told you, I wasn't checking you out! I was merely thinking and you were there. Really."

"Next time you're here, I'm changing in a restroom stall," Koumokuten grumbled. "Charles, I let you play around with your henchmen, but I draw the line at homo shit directed at me. Remember that."

But a seed of appreciation had been planted, and Vahyu found himself, as he drove home, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he should move Koumokuten into the "semi-desirable" mental category. AKA, if he were the last man on earth Vahyu would sleep with him, which was a change from before.

So the next morning, he pondered what action he should take as he admired himself in one of his desk mirrors. He had mirrors all over his office, two on his desk (he often kissed the one nearest to him) and six on the walls. But hmm, wait a second, someone had moved the second desk mirror so it got a reflection from a wall mirror of the door. Well, shoot. Why would he look at the door when he could be looking at himself?

He was just reaching out to adjust it when the door slammed open, and Koumokuten began, "Charles, I need you for a –"

Whoa, this mirror reflected the guy's left leg! With a little tweaking…

"Stay right there!" Vahyu commanded, making Koumokuten freeze in confusion. The Ad Manager took advantage of this to adjust the mirror, so he got a reflection of the other man's crotch. If he couldn't touch, he could sure as hell _look!_

"What's this about, Charles?" Koumokuten asked with a frown. "Why –?"

"Sorry, I was just trying to get my mirror right. I think the cleaning staff moved it, and you know how it is, you've almost got something right and then you get distracted and you lose it," Vahyu said apologetically, being completely untruthful.

"Oh. Okay."

Ha, now he had the perfect view for whenever Koumokuten came into this office, Vahyu congratulated himself. Yay.

.

"Loyal Amazon on the battlefield of life?" Koumokuten asked one Saturday morning in late May, as Tamara gritted her teeth at this term of endearment. "Have I told you about Charles's idea for the new Scimitar ad?"

"No master of my heart, you haven't," Aguni gaily replied, serving herself another blueberry muffin. "Is it a good one?"

"Yes it is. See, the burning medieval village one is getting old, so we thought we'd jazz it up a bit. In the _new _version, we have a tournament of warriors fighting for a prize, right? We have this old Asian herald say, 'Whosoever proves themselves worthy of the greatest weapon of all time shall have it,' " Koumokuten revealed with a grin.

As Tamara tuned him out and Aguni listened attentively, he went on, "So we have some mixed martial arts, some good old-fashioned swordfights, and – you'll love this – a babe with nunchuks who ends up winning. She kneels to be presented with what everybody thinks is a weapon, right?

"But it's our phone! As the spectators start to mutter in confusion, she lights up and lists all its awesome features. Then! She uses it to call a helicopter with guided missiles, blowing up the doddering old king. It ends with her sitting on a throne, holding our phone in her hand and with three studly guards at her beck and call," he finished with a proud smile.

Tamara, who'd been unable to help hearing the last part, thought, _I__ want three studly guards! Especially if they all look like Tenou._

As her stepdaughter fantasized about a trio of Tenous, Aguni giggled, "That's brilliant, honey! Whatever you pay Charles, it isn't enough. He's such a find, isn't he?"

"Well, yes and no," Koumokuten muttered. "If he wasn't so gay, he'd be earning a lot more."

Aguni recalled one particular rant about Vahyu. It had been last year, when Vahyu had given his boss and his boss's wife a bubble bath gift basket for Christmas. Included in this gift basket were lavender-scented bubble formula, lavender-scented bath oils, fluffy lilac towels, and a copy of his favorite bathtime book: Touch My Skin, I'll Touch Your Heart, which was about gay lovers. Yeah.

Needless to say, Koumokuten had been displeased. He'd growled, "Can't that man understand that not all of us are like him?! And why the hell doesn't he keep his gayness to himself? And lavender makes me sneeze, too."

"Well," Aguni had tried, "he does work very hard, and surely he –"

"He hits on every man he sees! He thinks Reginald is secretly bi! He keeps staring at Aaron's crotch! He keeps glancing at Taishakuten's ass! And I'm willing to bet he wants to follow Victor and James home one day and peek in the bedroom windows," Koumokuten had said in disgust. "Oh, and anyone meeting him can tell right away he's a homo."

"Is he _really _so flamboyantly –?"

"The man has a tramp stamp, honey," Koumokuten had groaned. "It says 'LOVE' in tribal purple letters. And he once told me his deviant little nipples are pierced! He is completely gay, and all he needs are breasts and different genitals and he'd be a woman."

"How did you find out about the tramp stamp?" she'd had to ask, snickering at such a thing.

"It was at this pool at a conference we were both at," he'd replied, very grumpily. "Fag was wearing a Speedo, and while I made him wear a towel when he was out of the water, I could still see the tattoo. Point is, he's so out there you can't see him! I wouldn't be surprised if he secretly wears women's underwear, too."

Here he was wrong. Vahyu wasn't a transvestite or transgender, just a very gay man. And as such, he liked _male_ underwear. Preferably little leather shorts, but manthongs were fun too, and they had the most _darling _boxers out there these days! His favorite was the lilac pair with the "male/male" symbols, although the ones that said "Do Not Feed The Animals" on the band were fun too.

Personally, Aguni thought Vahyu was fun. They were casual friends, even though Vahyu often found himself thinking that with shoulders like that, her height, and her high cheekbones and arched brows, Aguni looked like some sort of tranny. But nope, she was all woman, and if she ever found out he'd thought that about her, he'd be trying to find his most important masculine appendages after they'd been severed from his body and thrown out a window.

But as she hadn't, she liked him. They were, after all, both conceited people who enjoyed looking good, and also enjoyed artistic violence. Plus, Vahyu was of the opinion that Tamara was a brat, and Aguni wholeheartedly agreed with that.

As for the tortured Varuna, his boss's wife thought he was funny but dumb. How hard was it to get a coffee order right, especially when it was always the same one? Why didn't the doofus just write it down, either in his palm pilot or smartphone or with the good old-fashioned scratch paper route? What a dunce.

But back to Vahyu. Aguni found herself thinking, as she jumped rope in the exercise room, that maybe her husband needed to be more accepting. Vahyu, after all, couldn't change who he was.

_I__ can understand why he likes men, _she thought with a smirk. _Chiseled musculature and well-hung – _

"Aguni?" Tamara whined from the doorway. "Aguni, Daddy can't find his watch again."

"It's on the kitchen counter," she replied, not missing a beat in her jumping. "He took it off last night to make Salisbury steak, and I was going to bring it up to the nightstand but I forgot. Tell him not to worry, and to next time try to retrace his steps."

"Okay," Tamara agreed, annoyed that she had to be the messenger. And dammit, watching Aguni bouncing up and down, even in a sports bra, always made her feel inadequate. Oh well, she was still growing, and there was still hope.

As Tamara went back upstairs to reassure her dad that no, no burglars had penetrated his domestic fortress and made off only with his Rolex, Aguni went back to thinking about Vahyu, for the second time. Now, that man was someone who appreciated the same things she did, and even had a similar sense of humor. Why, Vahyu chortled when fat people got stuck in seats and bumped things off store shelves with their rolls of excess stored energy, and he also guffawed when some moron stepped into traffic while playing his DS.

She did, however, think that he was trying too hard. Here she was in agreement with Koumokuten, Taishakuten, Bishamonten, Zouchouten, Yasha, Souma, Karura, and especially Kujaku. Kujaku, in fact, had once written a poem about Vahyu being so gay he bled rainbows, which Koumokuten had shared with Aguni for some mean laughs.

Her favorite stanza had been this one:

"He stalks men like hunters in jungles,  
And when they turn him down, he bungles  
A chance to back out gracefully  
Because he cannot handle  
Not screwing a guy every day  
And he loudly shouts, 'I'm gay!'  
Which makes me think it's a scandal  
That this man hasn't had his head jammed into a tree."

Aguni snickered at that recollection, and regretted not saving that poem. Oh well, at least she remembered that part! And the mental vision of Vahyu clad in a deerskin loincloth, green paint on his face for camouflage, stalking a herd of built studs (also wearing loincloths) in a jungle was something she'd always be able to recall. Oh yes, Kujaku had painted a vivid picture with only one line.

When she finished her workout, she showered, blow-dried her hair, added the jewelry she always wore, and strolled on down to the kitchen. It was time to make herself a nice drink, and since she'd made some iced tea the day before, it was time to add to that.

She mixed in raspberry syrup, tasted the result, and mixed in twice as much. There was no such thing as too much raspberry syrup, not when you worked it off like she did. Plain iced tea was bland, but _this _iced tea was delicious, she congratulated herself as she poured two big glasses. One for her, one for her precious master of her heart.

She considered bringing one out to him, but uh-oh, both glasses were really full and would spill. But that was okay, he could just come in here and they could sit at the table, staring into each other's eyes and playing footsie like overgrown and violent-minded teenagers. Boy, she sure felt sorry for her pal Shashi, whose boyfriend Taishakuten never did things like that.

She moved out into the living room to see Koumokuten furiously typing on his laptop, the black one with the little pitchfork logo in red. It was, of course, a Tenkai Corporation laptop, the Warbook. Needless to say, Koumokuten had gotten one of the first ones produced, after they'd worked all the bugs out of course.

And he was chuckling evilly to himself as he typed. "Ha. Ha-ha-ha. Ha-ha-haa! AH-ha-ha–!"

"Studly sex sorcerer?"

He hastily slammed his laptop shut, whipped around, and smiled, "Oh hi fire muffin. What do you need?"

"What were you working on?" she asked in reply, a bit suspicious. What was so secret he couldn't risk her catching a glimpse of it? He'd never, ever done anything like this before, and it was almost unnerving.

He answered, "Oh, just something little, a personal project. No need to worry about it, darling. Anyway, what did you want?" he asked with a casual tone in his voice, one that didn't fool her at all. Whatever he'd been doing, it was important and probably not "something little."

Naturally, she wondered why he'd lied like that. She was confident in their love, so she didn't believe he was secretly chatting with another woman. Why would he? They were soulmates, he adored her, and why would he want some other woman when he had his Amazon bunny, who had just last night –

Well, never mind. The point was, she didn't think he was cheating, but she was a bit perturbed that he wasn't sharing whatever this was with her. Was it about Tamara? Well, if it was, she had a right to know! She was the girl's stepmother, after all, and as such should be involved in any problems with the teenager.

So she pretended to believe him, and vowed to check this out at a later date. She giggled, "Xavier dearest, I made some iced tea with raspberry syrup. Would you like to come have some?"

"Why sure I would," he replied with a grin, and so he did.

That evening, however, as he went off to take a shower, she wasted no time. She headed for the living room, glanced around to make sure Tamara wasn't watching, and opened the laptop. She'd watched him type the password in enough times to have the basic clues about it, and surely she'd be able to guess it.

Aguni considered this challenge. The password was thirteen characters, and started with "Iluv." So… "IluvAguni" wasn't long enough, "Iluvviolence" was the same, and "Iluvmydaughter" was one over. Hey, what about…

She typed in "Iluvchocolate," grinning at the _clever _little race joke. She owned a lingerie set that featured Hershey's Kisses graphics and the word "Chocolate," and her husband had thought that was simply hilarious, not to mention sexy.

She hit "enter," and beamed as the screen said, "Welcome, General Koumokuten!" Oh, his megalomania was just so _cute!_

Aguni browsed through business documents, half-written love emails (she kissed the screen after reading one called "Why Your Fire Makes Me Hot"), and then, she happened upon a folder titled "Super-Secret Plans." She expected a password prompt for this too, but nope, Koumokuten apparently thought "Iluvchocolate" would protect him.

"Super-Secret Plans" yielded three documents: "If Tamara Gets Pregnant: How to Kill the Father," "Taishakuten: Blackmail Potential," and "Love Motel." Hmm, that last one might be it. Aguni had already seen him work on the first two, and he'd bounced some ideas off of her. But "Love Motel"… he couldn't be cheating on her, so what was it?

She opened it up, and blinked in surprise at what she read.

"Reginald is a pent-up tightass who has a hard-on for Bitch Doctor Shashi," the document proclaimed. "This is useful, because it gives him a weakness! Ultimate goal: have Reginald and Bitch Doctor spend weeks getting naked in a tropical paradise, leaving _me_ to step into his shoes and demand a raise!

"Objective One: enlist Aaron's help.

- Play 'sympathy' card  
- Insinuate that Ellen will be happier if he helps me  
- Bribe him with coffee

"Objective Two: get rid of Kisshouten for good.

- Tell her Reginald's a jerk and she deserves better  
- Buy her a ticket to an arts festival  
- Introduce her to sexy male model  
- Act noble and offer to help cover up her affair with said model

"Objective Three: plant seeds of doubt.

- Make him jealous of my wonderful marriage!  
1. By talking about sex nonstop  
2. By snuggling with Aguni in his line of sight  
3. By _forcing_ myself to take a romantic trip to Tahiti with Aguni, and lots of pictures to send him  
- Mention Kisshouten's bad points, there must be some somewhere  
- Say Shashi seems lonely  
- Tell him Taishakuten will probably walk all over her

"Objective Four: throw them together.

- Throw intimate party  
- Steal their phones  
- Lure them into the coatroom and lock the door, and make sure to have romantic music on stereo, hidden under coats  
- Make sure nobody lets them out  
- Wait at least an hour so they have sex!  
- Knock, unlock door, and pretend to be ever so surprised (yet pleased!) when I see nudity

"Objective Five: suggest long honeymoon.

- Self-explanatory

"Objective Six: make myself indispensable to Taishakuten.

- Work minions like slaves the month before the honeymoon  
- Take over Reginald's responsibilities  
- Profit! ! !

"Notes: Reginald is stupid, so he won't go for Bitch Doctor pussy even if it's right in front of him. And stubborn, so if I tell him upfront to steal the ho and take a trip to Jamaica, he'll refuse just to spite me. But he _is _unobservant, so he probably won't notice my maneuverings.

"Other people might, though, so use caution. That's another reason Aaron must be persuaded to join the dark side: he might tell Reginald what I'm up to, and then Reginald will yell at me, avoid Bitch Doctor, and tattle to Taishakuten, which means I'm dead. Or at least fired. Or at least demoted and given a giant pay cut, lectured, and bitched at by Bitch Doctor.

"If all else fails, use the 'She said…' trick. I'll tell Reginald she wants to get into his pants and is waiting for him at a pre-booked motel room. He'll believe me, because I'm great at lying and convincing stubborn jackasses to do what I want. Then I'll enlist Aguni's help and lure Bitch Doctor there. Then we'll hide in the bushes and wait, and when he goes inside I'll put a padlock on the door.

"They won't hear me doing that because they'll be too busy listening to each other's confessions and beating hearts, or something equally sappy. While she's servicing him like the slut she is, I'll hop into my getaway car with my lovely wife, and we'll drive away with the stereo blaring Phil Collins's 'Against All Odds' for that perfect effect.

"Alternately, I break into Bitch Doctor's house and leave a gift of lingerie 'from Reginald,' with a typed note that says, 'I hope it's the right size. I've cherished the memory of your body under my hands, and all I want is to feel you again.' Or just, 'Let's fuck. – Reginald.'

"Alternately alternately, I team up with Victor and have him use reverse psychology. Since Reginald wants to beat Victor's head against a cement floor, I'll have him say stuff like, 'It's a good thing you broke up with Shashi years ago, because now she can be with Artie.' And 'I want Shashi to jump off a bridge.'

"And remember: don't get discouraged! Only quitters get discouraged. So yes there'll be unforeseen obstacles, but I will overcome them because I'm the General of Marketing and a genius who landed Aguni," Koumokuten concluded via Love Motel.

Aguni stared at the screen for a full minute, her mouth open. This was obviously his deep dark secret, and he had clearly put a lot of thought into it. And it was, in a word… sneaky as hell, which was technically a phrase but who cared. Playing around with people's lives, just to get more money: that was something that rarely ended well.

Still, she had to admit that she thought this just might work. After all, Shashi was still attracted to Bishamonten, Aguni knew this for a fact. Oh, the gynecologist had never said anything of the sort, but she had mentioned that she'd once dated him and got a sad, longing look on her face when she did. It was quickly covered up by a very good mask of neutrality, but Aguni had seen it.

Not to mention, she had the distinct sense that Taishakuten was mainly a coup to Shashi. Oh, she of course liked him a lot, but she didn't _love _him. She was dating him for the assets, it was clear to the gym teacher if not everyone else. In a way she admired it, that willingness to do anything to get what you wanted, but on the other hand…

If you didn't love the man you were hoping to marry, your entire relationship was built on lies. Aguni had a great marriage, because hers was built on love, respect, similar interests, love, humor, parallel tastes in bed, and love. She'd listed love three times, but that was the most important part!

It was a great and many-splendored thing, as some guy had once said. It made it so she could hold her head high when she went out with her frankly ugly, selfish, bastardly and older husband. None of that mattered to her. And really, she thought with a smirk, Koumokuten was like one of those hairless Chinese Crested dogs, he was so unattractive he was cute (but only in her mind, of course).

_And if Xavier is correct and Reginald wants Shashi too, _she pondered, _something might happen between them anyway! So better for him to reap a reward from it. And hey, I'd like more money, who wouldn't? Ooh, I could buy a new car!_

So Aguni decided that, if Koumokuten's plan ever hit any obstacles, she would step in and assist him on the Shashi end, all for the glory of moolah. And because surely Shashi would be happier with somebody she actually loved, anyway.

.

The next Monday evening found Varuna, once again, at the Charmand School of Fencing with Tamara. Why, exactly, was he at such a place? He certainly wasn't a fencer himself, and neither was Tamara. No, they were here to stalk – er, cheer on! – Tenou.

Tenou _was_ a fencer, a very good one too. And seeing as he never accepted Tamara's invitations to hang out or go to a movie, this was the one place she could regularly see him. She kept trying to get him to go out for ice cream or something afterwards, but he always had an excuse. "I have homework," was the most common one, followed by, "I'm already doing something tonight," then, "I'm kind of sore," and even once, "I think I'm getting a cold, you don't want to catch it."

Tamara was hopelessly infatuated with Tenou. Ever since she'd laid eyes on him at a dinner at Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette, she had decided that yes, he was her ideal boyfriend. He even had the sexy long hair!

Unfortunately for her, he was scared of her and didn't find her potential girlfriend material at all. Instead, he found her "avoid at all costs" material, but he was kind of a pushover and didn't have the guts to tell her point-blank to leave him alone. Which meant that every time she showed up for his fencing practice, he suffered. He at least could concentrate on drills and sparring when it was actual practice, but before practice, after practice, and during breaks she kept talking to him. And cheering when he landed a hit during sparring.

Today, he had managed to get there before her and Varuna, and had stayed down in the changing room on the chance that she was here. And when he came up with only seconds to spare until the formal beginning of practice, there they were.

Tamara beamed as her idol did drills, and whispered to Varuna, "He's so good, isn't he?"

Varuna, who had been trying to get some work done on his laptop, absentmindedly assented, "Yeah, he's great. Um, look, I have stuff to do, so –"

"Mr. Varuna, don't ignore Tenou's athletic genius! Close that stupid thing and watch him! He's a thing of beauty," she sighed, her eyes shining in Tenou-stalking fervor. "I wish there was a way to see his handsome face without that mask, though."

Wary of her slamming his laptop shut with his fingers still on the keyboard, Varuna reluctantly looked up and mumbled, "Yeah, he's wonderful. Fantastic. He's the one on the far left, right?"

"No, he's the one third from the far left," she snapped, offended that her handler wasn't as in awe of the guy as she was.

Meanwhile, Tenou was practicing his parries with his instructor, René Charmand. René ruled the Charmand School of Fencing, and yes, he had a pencil-thin goatee, impeccably styled short hair, and a French accent. He was from Paris actually, and as such was disappointed by many things in the city of Zenmi. But hey, at least there wasn't nearly as much competition here for fencing schools!

René had big, big plans for Tenou, who was a natural at fencing. He was sure that in a few more years, maybe even one, Tenou would be ready for the Olympic team. He might not medal in those games, but in the _next _ones, he would if his progress continued. And guess who'd have to go along and be interviewed while looking ever so handsome and debonair?

Also present and teaching other students was René's daughter, Bernadette. She too was very skilled, and often was put into bouts with Tenou, for pure practice of course. Competitions were male and male or female and female, but she was the second-best fencer in this school (René was the best) and Tenou learned a lot from fighting her.

_I am a blessed man, _René thought to himself in French. _Even if my dear Bernadette never makes the Olympics, Tenou will. I have put so many of my eggs into his basket, and I am confident that he will never drop it and break them all._

In reality…

Tenou, as a result of his neighbors Hakuryuu and Seiryuu Waters (and their cousin Nathan Ryuu), was getting more and more convinced that he should be concentrating on electric guitar and not fencing. He'd never been as enthusiastic as René on the Olympic thing, and while of course he loved the sport and knew he was good at it, he'd found something else that he liked even better.

But Shashi had implored him to stick with fencing. So he was, but honestly, his heart wasn't as in it as it had been before. Not to mention, he thought rather guiltily, that Tamara couldn't follow him around when he practiced electric.

.

A week later, Vahyu started his day just like he started most days. He yawned, stretched in his luxurious king-sized bed, and greeted, "Good morning, (partner from last night)."

Today, it was, "Good morning, Marco." Marco was an Advertising boy toy, a team lead who'd been given the honor of sleeping with Vahyu a few times before. He was hopelessly infatuated, all of those in that bracket were, and like the rest of them, he thought he could change Vahyu if given enough time.

But nope, Vahyu was a serial seducer, and he'd get so bored if he had to stay with only one man. But ha, wasn't it fun how everyone fell at his feet and vowed to be The One? And of course, they all tried to back that up with the evidence of all their hard work, and by catering to him, couldn't forget that.

"Mr. Vahyu, good morning," Marco beamed in reply. Vahyu didn't like to be called "Charles" by his underlings, not at all. Men picked up out in the community could call him that, but underlings had to stay underlings, and demonstrate their place.

"I am going to take my shower," Vahyu informed him, "and you will make me breakfast, I assume you remember where the English muffins are."

"I _do_," Marco fervently agreed, getting out of bed in his haste to play loyal breakfast servant. "Have a nice shower, sir."

Vahyu _did _have a nice shower. He made sure to use the special scented body wash and tons of conditioner, and blow-dry that gorgeous head of hair when he was done, plus add his favorite lavender aftershave when he was done shaving. And then he put on his work clothes: tight dark grey pants, lilac Oxford shirt, and a striped tie that matched the pants _and _the shirt, with its little lilac stripes. And mustn't forget the devilishly expensive black Italian wingtips, polished to a shine and tied with perfect, neat bows.

He traipsed into the kitchen and told Marco, "You may take your shower now. Ah, I see you remembered how much I like marmalade!" he smiled as his eye fell on marmalade-slathered English muffins, hot and with butter too.

"Of course I did, Mr. Vahyu. I make a point to know what you like," Marco replied, sounding ever so fervent.

"Yes, thank you. Well, run along, I wouldn't want to have to write you up for being late to work," Vahyu chuckled, and Marco chuckled along and went off to get clean.

Mmm, yummy! Was there such a thing as too much marmalade? Surely not, Vahyu thought as he consumed his breakfast. Just like sex, there was no such thing as too much sex! Maybe for those whiny _women _there was, but not for him. Maybe for men in monogamous relationships there was, but he wasn't them!

When he stepped out of the elevator and the outer apartment doors with Marco, he gave him a smooch and advised, "Drive safe now. Oh, and those were simply _scrumptious _English muffins."

Marco beamed, proud of himself for pleasing his object of devotion, and agreed to drive safe, "And you too, sir! I'll see you at work, where you _know _I'll work harder than anybody else for you, Mr. Vahyu sir."

"Yes, do that. Bye-bye now!"

And with that, Vahyu strolled out into the parking lot as Marco headed to his own car. Oh, his beloved Jaguar… that car was just like Charles Vahyu: sleek, well cared-for, and advertising its awesomeness. It was gold with a license plate that said "IMSEXY," and had a license plate holder with little hearts and curlicues that reminded him of gusts of wind.

Vahyu liked wind. It made his hair blow around in such a sensual way, and it tended to plaster loose shirts and pants onto the bodies of the men surrounding him. Alas, women were often by him too, but he never paid much attention to them if he didn't know them already.

He hopped into the Jaguar, turned the radio on to a Top 40 station, and sang along. On his way to the Tenkai Corporation skyscraper he passed a billboard that made him grin, because it was one of his. It was an advertisement for the G-7 gaming platform, which had gone through no less than seven redesigns to be, to be blunt, the best one ever. Nintendo, Sony, and Microsoft would soon be crying that the G-7 was the new "it" platform.

Funnily enough, to Koumokuten and Taishakuten at least, the "G" did not stand for "Game" or "Gigabytes" or anything like that. No, the "G" was a reference to this platform's codename: "Genocide." What a hilarious thing, right?

Vahyu was immensely proud of his TV ad for the G-7. Although Koumokuten thought it was a bad one, Vahyu was convinced that it was wonderful. It was shot in grainy, black-and-white film, featured clowns playing "Demon Mermaid Adventures," had no sound but a dubstep track with accordions, and used the silent film convention of writing the dialogue out. Even the announcer's, which he was sure was a brilliant turnaround.

His underlings loved it. The focus group had been appalled, but had all decided, just for giggles, to say that it was great and IRL troll Tenkai Corporation. Koumokuten had tried to have Vahyu scrap the ad and do a different one, but Vahyu had insisted that this was genius, in a long, impassioned speech. Koumokuten had reluctantly given him the go-ahead, and now it was premiering on TVs all over the country, or had last night.

When he got in, Vahyu barely had time to admire himself in his mirrors before his secretary Lyle poked his head in and squeaked, "Sir, before he went off to the daily briefing with Mr. Taishakuten and the other two, Mr. Koumokuten stopped by and said he'd be coming in to have a talk with you."

"Oh, he probably wants to brainstorm ideas for the –"

"He, um, seemed kinda mad, sir. He didn't say why, he just said, and I quote, 'Tell that moron to make sure he's free at nine-forty-five, or I'll come in and interrupt whatever he's doing,' " Lyle recited, then hastily added, "I don't think you're a moron at all, sir! That's just what he said."

Now Vahyu was a bit worried. Usually Koumokuten thought he was great, in a business sense at least, so what in the world had upset him?

He found out at nine-forty-four, when he was nervously fixing his hair in his mirror and Koumokuten slammed the door open. And uh-oh… he did _not _look happy, not at all. In fact, he looked so angry Vahyu almost expected to see wailing monsters and spirits manifesting in the air around him, so much did he resemble a professionally attired demon.

"So. Guess who saw the report and figures on the G-7 ad," he began without preamble. Before Vahyu could answer, Koumokuten went on, "You know, the one with the annoying as hell music, the frigging clowns, and the game voted 'Most likely to give children seizures' being played. Your little brainchild."

"Is it not being well received?" Vahyu asked, a bit incredulously. Why not? That was his baby, the ad he'd thought was sheer brilliance. Was the American public really made up of such Philistines that they couldn't recognize the artistic merit of such a thing?

"No, it's not being well received in the least. Charles," Koumokuten growled, "do you remember who told you that idea sucked?"

"You did, sir," Vahyu said nervously.

"And do you remember who insisted it was a good one?"

"I did, sir."

"And guess who was right?" Koumokuten asked, a very dangerous tone in his voice. Vahyu gulped, and squeaked out an answer of "Well, that would be you, sir."

"EXACTLY! You incompetent little dunce, we're losing money and absolutely _everyone _switches the channel when they see the opening shot! Your idea was so bad, there are internet memes about it already! We're a fucking laughingstock! And Taishakuten is pissed, which I can't blame him for at all, and it's all _your _fault, you cocksucking rock-brained avant-garde sonuvabitch!" Koumokuten roared, making Vahyu wince.

"I'm giving you a pay cut! And from now on, every idea I shoot down _stays _down, no matter how good you think it is!" Koumokuten ranted, looking completely feral. "Your idea was the shittiest ad this company has ever produced, and that's saying something after that geezer Hiddleby's run. We look stupid!

"So here's what's gonna happen, you lack-wit of a buffoon. You're going to bust your ass making a new, _better _ad for the G-7, and it's going to be as good as the current one is bad, do you hear me?! And you're gonna work constantly on it, put everything else on the backburner, and when you produce that ad, _then _I will allow you to work on other things.

"And Charles, if you fail me here, you are _fired! _Yes, you heard me right, and no, your prior work doesn't count for anything! So repeat after me, Charles: 'I've been bad, and I deserve this punishment,' " he commanded.

"I've been bad, and I deserve this punishment," Vahyu agreed, shaking in his Italian wingtips. This was terrible! It had been so _fun _to watch everyone else (including Varuna) get yelled at, but when it was his turn, it was _awful_.

Koumokuten nodded, "Yes, you do. Now go forth and do my bidding, and tell your team how important this is."

"I will," Vahyu babbled. "I'll make a phenomenal ad, Mr. Koumokuten sir! And I'm super sorry! And thank you for not firing me, and I'll never disagree with you again, and – and I promise to never make anything like that again, ever! _Ever_, sir! Please believe me!"

Heady with the rush of power, Koumokuten nodded regally and proclaimed, "I accept your apology, but if you fail me here that's it. Now, you have until three today to tell your people exactly what I've told you, or however you wanna say it. But remember, I want that new ad as fast as possible, and if it isn't good…" He left the sentence hanging in a threatening manner, and then turned and walked away.

On his way down the hall, he passed nervous-looking Advertising drones galore. They'd all heard his raised voice and a couple insults, and had to wonder what Vahyu had done to deserve such vent of spleen. Poor Mr. Vahyu, suffering like that!

Back in his office, Vahyu let out a shaky breath and nervously flicked a strand of hair out of his face as a comforting action. Oh Gawd, he was lucky to be alive! And not to be fired immediately, too. His faith in his genius had been briefly shaken, and it was very clear that the American public _was _a bunch of Philistines, and maybe he was too artsy for the ruffians.

But an hour later, after informing all his important underlings that there would be a mandatory meeting in Conference Room F, his narcissistic personality had started to work on this problem. On the ad front, what he had to do was play their lowbrow game: have dumb humor, popular music, and dazzling special effects, and use a game like, oh, "Dr. Doomsday's Destruction Derby" in the ad, which was a racing game with gratuitous violence and little chance of a seizure.

On the social front, he had to spin this to make it look like he had been unfairly maligned, or – or had been prepared for such verbal abuse. And he would be inspirational as all get-out, so the new ad would not only be great, it would be produced as quickly as possible. And maybe he'd call in some favors, and get Flo-Rida to do a quick single for the ad.

It didn't even have to be a _good _single. Hell, Flo could write it on a napkin at breakfast or something, it only had to have one verse and a good hookline. He'd rush it to the studio as a favor to the music mogul who owed Vahyu a favor, and that would be that.

By the time all the important underlings had gathered in Conference Room F, Vahyu had a plan. He kept them waiting for a few minutes before he came in, to up their nervous anticipation. Playing his audience was a talent of his.

In the conference room, Marco whispered to another team lead, "Do you think he's going to tell us that he's been… fired?"

"If he was," the other team lead replied firmly, "then I'm following him to his new job."

"Me too!"

"Same here!"

"Mr. Vahyu over Mr. Taishakuten, hell to the yeah!"

"I want to have his baby!" a female Advertising minion proclaimed, making the rest, male and the other few females, roll their eyes in exasperation. Even the rare straight male employees thought that woman was stupid.

Just then, measured footsteps could be heard in the hall, and they all quieted down and watched the door with wide, worried eyes. Vahyu threw it open, looking ever so dashing and amused, and a sigh of relief went up. Good, if he were being fired he wouldn't look like that!

"Thanks for coming, everybody," he said smoothly, crossing to the windows and pulling all but one shade down for effect. "As some of you may know… our ad for the G-7 was not received in a positive light by the viewing public, _or _Xavie."

"That's why he yelled at you, huh?" a lovesick worker asked as Vahyu strode over to the head of the table. "But sir, we all thought it was great, and so did the focus group!"

"Focus groups have been known to give an inaccurate representation of what the general public likes or dislikes," Vahyu sighed, sounding ever so weary of such things. "But people, do you know… I was _ready _for Mr. Koumokuten's blowup."

Marco nearly sniffled, "But he went off on you! He made disparaging comments about your sexuality, and your intelligence! There was no need for him to do that, and if you say the word, we'll all quit to prove a point!" he vowed, striking his chest with a fist. "Because he can't be allowed to get away with things like that."

"But you see Marco," Vahyu bragged, striking a pose in the beam of light from the window, "I let him yell at me _on purpose. _To gather data."

"Ooh!" the entire room of besotted cubicle dwellers sighed, some of them clasping their hands in devotion to Vahyu, Lord of Advertising and Come-Hither Eyes.

"Yes," the Adonis preened, "I knew someone had to do it, and better me than that weak-willed, rock-headed Edward. But now that Mr. Koumokuten has thrown his worst at me, I'm no longer worried."

He crossed to the window, stuck one foot on the ledge, and leaned into it in perfect fanservice mode, making sure they got his best side as he went on, "Because people… just as he battered me with the blunt-force trauma of his uncaring words, so too will I raze his palace of conceitedness to the very grou–"

"You heard Mr. Vahyu! Let's burn Xavie's house down!" an exuberant assistant yelled, and there was an immediate chorus of enthusiastic agreement.

"NO!" Vahyu snapped, annoyed that he'd been interrupted in his prepared speech. "No house-burning!"

"Oh," everyone else muttered, dejected. Marco had been mentally calculating how much gasoline it would take to destroy a mansion, and maybe a garage too. And if you were allowed to shoot executives who tried to escape the conflagration.

Vahyu elaborated, "What I'm going to do instead is genius, sheer genius. Gentlemen and ladies, I am going to create the single best ad humankind has ever seen, to demonstrate my brilliant creativity! When Mr. Koumokuten sees it, he will have tears in his eyes at its beauty, and he shall heap upon me the laurels I so richly deserve."

"YAAAYYY!"

"Go Mr. Vahyu! You ROCK!"

"Can I help? Please tell me I can help!"

These and similar sentiments went up in a clamor, and Vahyu grinned, "Why yes, all of you _can _help. You will assist me by brainstorming ideas, and obeying without question, and hyping this ad up to create buzz. We shall make this the ad to end all ads, and we will go down in history as the most brilliant advertisers in the world! This new ad takes top priority, and in fact is all I will be working on until its completion, that's how important it is. So I require constant devotion to this project! Now… let's hear some ideas!"

He heard lots of ideas. And by the time this meeting was over, he was pretty sure he'd found the winning formula, using his earlier thoughts about Flo-Rida and "Dr. Doomsday's Destruction Derby" as well. It was decided that, as time was in such sort supply, they'd forgo CG special effects and instead use good old-fashioned pyrotechnics. Plus a couple sexy bellydancers, because one of the workers had a cousin who taught classes on that and could help.

And soon, it was apparent that this _would _be a good ad. Flo-Rida had agreed to contribute and whipped out a jingle, which Koumokuten approved of, and the bellydancers were indeed sexy, and sexy sold better than humor. Not to mention the pyrotechnic filming went off without a hitch, and yes, Koumokuten took Aguni to see it, where she had lots of fun.

And miracle of miracles, even before the ad reached the focus group, Koumokuten pulled Vahyu aside and told him, "This is great. I'm still pissed we're losing money off the first one, but this new one should recoup our losses. Charles, this may well be the best ad you've ever done."

"Thank you sir," Vahyu replied, as modestly as he could. "You know what they say… if at first you don't succeed, try, try again!"

.

It was Monday, July 2nd, 2012… and today was the day that Varuna was going to ask for a raise. He'd prepped for weeks, writing his speech and practicing it to the mirror, and having Vahyu play devil's advocate/Koumokuten in a series of roleplays. And while he knew it would be hard, he was confident that he could do it.

Because in all honesty, he was underpaid. Dealing with Koumokuten's villainous personality aside, he knew what he was doing and made fewer mistakes than many people would have. Sure Yasha, Karura, and Souma were still much better, but Vahyu's assistant Bradley and many other assistants were worse, in Bradley's case much worse.

He'd talked to his individual therapist about this, and Neil had agreed. Yes, Varuna had escaped the therapy group from Hell, and while he'd been sad to say goodbye to Stanley, he had been more than happy to say goodbye to everybody else. Finally, he'd been set free from the chains of homophobia, narcissism, blowups, and sullen silences!

He'd composed a mental speech the night before, and it had gone like this: "I'm leaving this group, because it's not a good fit for me at all. I've seen that focusing on other people's problems isn't helpful, and I have something I want to say to each of you.

"Fanny, you're a bigoted relic. Diane, you're a babbling attention whore. Lynn, you're a bitch. Hailey, why do I get the sense you're only here because a court ordered you to be? And Stanley, you deserve a high paycheck, dealing with all these crazy people.

"Oh, and one more thing – Mr. Huggles is freaky. There, I said it! Now I hope you all have nice lives, but even if you don't, I won't be forced to hear about them anymore!"

But of course, he hadn't actually said that, because that would have resulted in mayhem, possible injury, and a talking-to from poor Stanley. No, instead he'd politely informed all of them that he was moving on, thanked Stanley for helping him find an individual psychologist, and spent his last time listening to the "Ocean Waves" CD by imagining all the other group members being eaten by sharks.

Dr. Smithson ("Oh, you can call me 'Neil' if it makes you feel more comfortable") was good, but damn, so far a majority of each session had been taken up by "Getting to know you" conversations. Varuna was getting tired of telling his life story, and he'd only had two therapists so far. He felt very, very sorry for those people who'd been seeing multiple therapists for years on end.

But Neil agreed that Varuna should ask for a raise, and had done some coaching and roleplays too. Unfortunately, since he'd never met Koumokuten he'd tried to do "best-case scenario" situations, while what Varuna needed was "worst-case scenario" ones. Thus Vahyu. Vahyu knew Koumokuten very well, and did a dead-on impression of him demanding coffee after turning Varuna's request down. But Varuna had managed to convince "Koumokuten" to give him a raise numerous times, and today, he would see how well that would play out in real life.

So now, he made sure to get his boss's coffee order right, be as diligent as possible all through the morning, and after lunch, he politely requested, "Sir, can we have a talk?"

"About what?" Koumokuten replied, frowning at a chart on his computer screen.

"Well… you see, Mr. Koumokuten sir, I've been working for you for two years now, and I think I deserve another raise," Varuna began, in as non-confrontational a tone as he could. "After all sir, all the other Senior VP assistants make more than I do, I've checked. And we all do the same job, mostly."

"Nope," Koumokuten said shortly, not even bothering to look up. "Just because you've lasted longer than Percy, doesn't mean you deserve another raise. You make mistakes and always get my coffee order wrong. No raise for you."

Vahyu's voice echoed in Varuna's head, with a visual of the Ad Manager striking his fist into his hand: _"You've got to be __firm__. He's a Senior Vice President, not a god! He's just as human as you and me."_

So Varuna erected a barricade of fairness, self-confidence, and assertiveness in the streets of the war zone known as "Asking for a Raise." "Mr. Koumokuten, I've lasted longer than Percy _or _Walter. Or Mara, or Jack, or Tiffany, or Ben. I've made sure to follow your orders, and while I agree that my coffee-fetching hasn't been on par with Walter's, James makes hundreds more each month than I do, and that's not fair."

Koumokuten bulldozed right over that barricade and proceeded to slaughter the civilians of Varuna's ego, with a grumpy, "Edward, James is useful. You're a bumbling clod. Go get me another macchiato, and if you bring this up again I'll give you a pay _cut._"

Varuna simply stood there for a moment, feeling like the meticulously crafted mirror of his self-confident request had been shattered by the carelessly thrown rock of Koumokuten's hurtful reply. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! In all those roleplays with Vahyu, Koumokuten had at least been willing to listen, if reluctant to give his assistant a raise.

And he _would _give poor Varuna a pay cut, Varuna knew this for a fact. So he did the only thing he could. He nodded and went down to the coffeeshop by the cafeteria, to buy the bastard a bleeping caramel macchiato. He _wanted _to pull a Rudra with that coffee (Vahyu had told him all about it), except he'd throw it at Koumokuten's face before he started his screamed "I quit!" speech.

Goddammit! Hadn't he worked hard enough? And all those assertiveness skills… what good were they if they didn't get you what you wanted?! What was the _point _of respectfully standing up for yourself, if you got turned down just like you would have if you hadn't used them?

Here Varuna was making a common mistake, and no therapist would _ever _guarantee that such a thing would work on everybody, all the time. In fact, Neil had warned him that it might not, but Varuna had been too excited about these new "tools for his toolkit of interpersonal effectiveness" to really listen.

Oh well, he sighed as he paid for another caffeinated treat, at least he hadn't been yelled at.

.

July 21st was a scorcher. The temperature was in the high eighties, and with the humidity it felt like the high nineties. A thunderstorm was predicted for this evening, which would cool everything down, but as Varuna drove to the Mosquito Lake State Park the sky was clear and the sun was beating down. Oh joy.

He had made sure to completely cover his body with bug spray, and was carrying one of those wonderful portable devices that continuously sent out wafts of the stuff. Even so, he was willing to bet he would have mosquito bites, because there had been a lot of rain the last week and cooler temperatures, which translated to standing water for the horrible little bloodsuckers to breed in. And with a name like Mosquito Lake, you _knew _it was going to be bad, and you'd be right.

Since he hadn't actually been to a company picnic for Tenkai Corporation before, he had played it safe for his attire. Fearing that Koumokuten might call him unprofessional if he showed up in shorts and flip-flops, he'd worn a long-sleeved shirt with a tie, and slacks. Which meant he would be roasting, but better to roast than get yelled at, he thought a bit hysterically.

The minute he pulled into the parking lot, he saw how much of a mistake he'd made. He saw women in short-shorts and bikini tops, he saw men with irreverent t-shirts and swim trunks. He also saw Vahyu, clad in an open shirt and a pair of cutoffs, with numerous people giving him admiring glances. And there, just getting out of his sleek black sports car with his daughter: Koumokuten, wearing a tank top and cargo shorts, with wicked-looking sunglasses.

Varuna heaved a sigh and got out of his own car, grabbed the hotdogs he'd been told to bring, and tried to cross to the pavilion without being seen. No luck. Five people started to snicker, and Koumokuten called, "Edward you dumbass, this is the picnic, not a conference! Shit, you're stupid."

"I wasn't sure of the appropriate attire," Varuna said stiffly, as Tamara giggled, "You're going to be soaked in sweat! Do you maybe have something with you you can change into?"

Varuna thought, and suddenly brightened up. Yes! Yes, he had workout clothes in the trunk, and while they were wrinkled they weren't too dirty, plus everyone would be sweating anyway. So good, he wouldn't roast after all, and then people could stop pointing and laughing, the jerks.

So he replied, "Well of course I do. As soon as I drop these hotdogs off, I'll change into them, Tamara. Where's your stepmom?"

"She drove separately," Koumokuten answered for his daughter. "This car's a two-seater. I wanted to bring the four-seater, but my little girl insisted on having a ride in the Hellspawn, and Aguni agreed to drive her own car. I think she's here already, she left before us. She's probably over by the grills," he predicted.

And yes, she was. Fire! Oh boy, so many people to help ignite their charcoal, and urge them to apply more lighter fluid. As Varuna came up to the grills, he saw her, and she caught sight of him too.

Aguni was wearing clothes that were making more than a few of the men around her very happy: an orange, low-cut tank top, khaki short-shorts, and wedge-heeled sandals with little orange jewels on the straps. And of course, gold jewelry, not merely gold-colored either. She had her favorite earrings in, the ones with the tassels and the orange metallic orbs, but her necklace was an 18-karat choker, and her bracelets were 18-karat bangles, three on each wrist.

Then of course there was the engagement/wedding band. No boring platinum, diamond solitaire for her, oh no. No, she had three huge, highest-quality fire opals, the rarest kind, set in an Indian-inspired gold setting and flanked by diamonds. The (double) band itself was wider than the average man's ring, which suited her just fine. And of course, Koumokuten's matching band had little flame designs chased into it.

"Hi, Mrs. Koumo– _Ms. _Steel-Koumokuten," Varuna hastily amended, as she shot him a deathglare.

Aguni was one of those people who thought "Mrs." and "Miss" were old-fashioned and rather sexist, because after all, a man could be single or married and he'd be "Mr." no matter what. Not to mention that her last name wasn't "Koumokuten," it was "_Steel_-Koumokuten." Yes, taking your husband's name instead of keeping your own was a construct of the patriarchy, but at the same time, she loved her dark overlord of desire and wanted to let the world know she was his wife. But a quick hyphenation, and it was all good!

"Hello, Edward," she replied, her voice dripping with ice. "You seem to have ignored the 'casual dress' part of the invitation."

"I didn't get a written invitation, nobody did," he protested sullenly. "I was playing it safe. But anyway, where do I put the hotdogs?" He held them up, and had to swat a mosquito a second later, bad sign.

She pointed and answered, "Over there, on the table by Jill. And – there you are Xavier!" she called, waving her hands in the air. She completely forgot Varuna, but that was a-okay with him, because now he could go get his gym clothes and change.

Varuna gave the hotdogs to Jill, scuttled back to his car, nearly ran over to the restrooms, and proceeded to garb himself in the appropriate attire. Feeling much better already, he stuffed the other clothes in the gym bag and dropped it off at the car, then returned to the grills. Maybe he could help?

Nope. The grills had all been commandeered by men with puffed-out chests that they were preparing meat because they were manly, _real _men, and Aguni, who no one was about to try to kick off a grill just because she wasn't male. Even without her being the big boss' wife, that woman gave off the "Don't mess with me, I'll stab you with a hot toasting fork" vibe.

Oh well. Varuna could just talk to Vahyu in one of the burger/hotdog lines. But nope, he couldn't, because Vahyu had delegated an admirer to stand in line for him, and was perched on a picnic table holding court with his other love slaves. Or wannabe love slaves, there were some of those too.

Varuna heaved a little sigh and wandered over, asking, "Charles, do you know where the beer is?"

"Over by that group of people," Vahyu replied, pointing. "In the coolers, duh. There's also lemonade and soda, and – Ivan? Ivan, would you be so kind as to get me some lemonade?"

"Yessir!" Ivan assented, jogging off in his haste. Varuna watched him go with a rather disgusted look on his face, because what _was _it about these would-be Vahyu lovers that made them so frickin' subservient and _dumb?_

"Did you need something?" Vahyu asked him as another admirer passed him one of those tiny, portable fans. "I'm kind of busy, surely you can see that. I'll talk to you later, but right now, the boys and I were just discussing Barack Obama's cup size."

Varuna cringed a bit and hastily replied, "I was just coming over to chat. You guys go ahead and fantasize about our President, I'm going to go get a beer, thanks."

He made his way over to the coolers, and selected a Coors. Ah, beer… what would humanity do without it? Well, besides not cause accidents, do stupid stuff, make dumb choices, and get rowdy, but those could be traced back to other alcoholic beverages too, so there.

With his beer in hand, he got into one of the grill lines. It happened to be Aguni's, and guess who got to bypass everybody else and get _two _burgers? As Koumokuten and Aguni smooched and various employees averted their eyes, Varuna glanced over at Tamara, who had pointedly gone to another grill. The teenager frowned for a second, then rolled her eyes heavenwards as if to say, "Hey, it's not _my _fault."

When Varuna finally made it up to the front of the line, Aguni greeted, "Well hello there. Hotdog, burger, or cheeseburger?"

"Can I have a hotdog _and _a cheeseburger?" he hopefully tried. He turned on the charm and added, "They both look so delicious, I don't think I can choose. Boy, you're good at cooking outdoors, Ms. Steel-Koumokuten."

"No, you can't have two," she haughtily informed him. "Everybody else gets one, you get one too."

Varuna thought about pointing out the fact that Koumokuten got two. Varuna thought about glowering and muttering, "Bitch." Varuna thought about telling her, "You could be a little nicer with your reply, you know." Instead, he sighed and chose a cheeseburger, and vowed to get a hotdog later, from somebody else.

He went off to a table, and looked over at Vahyu in hopes that his friend would join him now. Two hunky men were currently fanning the Ad Manager, as another handed him a beer and a fourth presented him with a burger, made just the way he liked it. And now there was a line too, to cater to Vahyu. Varuna glowered, and couldn't help but wish there were a line of _women _eager to keep _him _cool, feed him, and get him a cold one. Not fair, not fair at all.

"Thank you, everyone," Vahyu smiled. "Now, run along and get some food yourselves, Edward and I are going to go sit with Xavie and his family."

Varuna thought about protesting, but Vahyu was already bearing down on him and ordering, "Don't sit with _those _losers. Come with me and sit with the powerful people. And in my case, beautiful people!"

"Okay," Varuna obediently assented, picking his plate and beer up and following Vahyu. Oh well, after Vahyu's "losers" comment, nobody at that old table would want to talk to him anyway, and if he were lucky he could just fade into the background at the powerful people's table.

Vahyu sat next to Aguni, across from Tamara. Varuna sat next to Tamara, across from nobody. Koumokuten of course was across from Aguni and next to Tamara, and with such an alignment Varuna hoped he himself would be mostly ignored. And indeed, Koumokuten didn't even greet them with words, just nodded and continued telling a funny Zouchouten story.

"…So then Andersen makes another big mistake. He says, 'Dude, I don't think you get the current generation's priorities.' And Aaron goes into a rant about market research, and how he has three hip nieces, and how it's his _job _to know what that demographic likes, and this is ageism, damn it. Ha, Andersen was cowering in his chair," Koumokuten chortled, and Aguni and Vahyu chortled along.

"That man is scary," Vahyu said cheerfully. "I mean, he's nice when you get to know him, but just by his appearance people want to steer clear. And when he gets mad and bellows, it's like being yelled at by a… a…"

"An angry barbarian general," Aguni chipped in. "With the sideburns, he could be a Visigoth or something. Xavier dearest, what did you call him that one day when he rejected your slogan about the Warbook?"

"Hmm… Aha! I called him a 'meatheaded moron with a miniscule marketing mind,' fire of my heart," Koumokuten bragged. "Alliteration is the sign of an intelligent person, y'know. And I once called Reginald a 'snotty sycophant with serious style shortcomings,' due to that ridiculous hair."

"And you sir," Vahyu fawned, "you're a black-clad brainy brigand of the boardroom!"

"I _am_," Koumokuten agreed with a proud smirk. "Nice one, Charles."

Varuna was about to try his own hand at an alliterative compliment, when something landed by the side of his plate, something _awful_. A horrible, winged, yellow- and black-striped insect, with a _stinger!_

"BEE!" he screeched, like a little girl on helium. "Get it _away!_"

Koumokuten gave him a confused look. Bees were fun, you could pull their wings off and watch them futilely try to get away. Then you squished them to put them out of their misery, because society at large seemed to think animal abuse was a bad thing. Oh, if only they lived in Spain, where the national pastime was stabbing and killing a bull.

As Koumokuten was thinking all this, Varuna was cringing with his arms over his head as Vahyu drawled, "It's a yellowjacket. Not a bee, silly. See, bees die when they sting you, but yellowjackets can sting again and again and ag–"

Aguni matter-of-factly smacked the yellowjacket against the table, ending its life of being a hive-minded automaton and harassing humans who'd left it alone. Oh, men… sometimes they didn't figure out the obvious course of action.

"She's dead," she told the whimpering Varuna. "Are you allergic or something?"

He sighed, "No. But they hurt! And I've been stung multiple times, it's like they zero in on me or something. I was once at a party with thirty other people, in the exact middle of the patio with people surrounding me, and one flew over from the rose bush and stung me! And they freak me out! They're so alien-looking, and the _stingers…_" He shuddered for a moment, and finally finished, "It's kind of a phobia, really."

Vahyu said seriously, "Phobias are awful things. I myself have a phobia of bad hair days." When all he got in response to his statement was four unimpressed glares, he protested, "When you look as good as I do, you worry about things like that! I have nightmares about it sometimes!"

"_I'm _not scared of _anything_," Aguni bragged. "Except Xavier getting into a car crash or something."

As the conversation drifted to driving hazards, Vahyu tuned it out and ate his burger. Ooh, perfectly done, with just the right amount of lettuce and condiments and extra pickles, he'd have to thank Steven. Maybe he could come home with him after this picnic, he'd been so good lately. And if Vahyu recalled correctly, he hadn't slept with Steven for – goodness, nigh on a year!

He decided then that he needed to make some sort of spreadsheet, to keep track of all the work swains. He wouldn't want to make it look like he was favoring one of them, now would he? Well, maybe this weekend he'd sit down and try to recollect, to the best of his knowledge, how many times and when was the last time he'd granted individuals the honor of being his partner, and enter all that into his computer.

Finally, an hour and a half later, Koumokuten surveyed his loyal work soldiers from the pavilion stage and decreed, "Now that we've all eaten and digested our food, it's time for team-building activities. All of you, on your nametags, have a colored sticker."

Heads all through the crowd went down to stare at their nametags, and he went on, "Red goes over there by Shannon," he pointed to her, "blue goes over by Naveed, green goes over by Seamus, yellow goes over by Chistoph, orange goes over by Tyra, pink goes over by Dustin, black goes over by Yolanda, and purple goes over by Boquiesha." As he spoke, he pointed to those people as well, then added, "And I have black, so I'll be joining Yolanda's group."

Varuna was glad that he had green, not black, and Vahyu was pleased that he had purple. Yay, he had a gay color!

As he strolled on over to Boquiesha, a sassy African-American woman with the elaborate braids people in that demographic could pull off, he couldn't help but be disappointed that there seemed to be more women than men in that group. Phooey! Didn't the organizers realize that if he were in a group, it should be mostly comprised of handsome men?

Nope, the organizers had done this deliberately, just for him. Boquiesha and Co. had thought that, since Vahyu had devoted worshippers so often, he should stretch himself on these team-building activities and learn to get along with ugly and/or straight men, and women. Yeah he had female friends, but whether or not he'd trust them with his safety was another matter entirely.

Vahyu was most displeased, and proceeded to show Boquiesha the winter of his discontent. He snapped, "Why are _none _of my underlings in this group? It's a huge group, and I don't see a single Advertising worker!"

"Jane's from Advertising," she replied smugly. "So's Buck. And Maria. And Kenny, and Leah, and Betsy and Christie and – you get my point, I hope," she smirked, her hands on her hips and one of those hips cocked out. Oooh, if she did that head-moving side-to-side thing at him, he was going to have to one-up her with a hip-swivel.

But no. She just called out, "Everybody here? Good! Now, we're gonna break into smaller groups or partners for some of this, but for the first few ones we're all gonna stay together. These activities were designed to promote teamwork and cooperation, and research shows that office teams that trust each other perform better."

_Oh yeah? _Vahyu thought with one eyebrow lifted in skepticism. _Well, __my__ research shows that having people adore you makes them perform the best they can!_

He endured the team-building activities, which he was convinced had been invented by some sort of sadist. Making a human pyramid without the use of words? Letting yourself fall off a rock and trusting the rest to catch you? Leading a blindfolded, randomly chosen partner around an obstacle course of beach balls with only your voice and no use of the future tense? How would _any _of this be useful in an office setting?!

Finally it ended, and they all trooped over to the stage in the pavilion. They happened to be the first group finished, so Vahyu snagged a seat right next to Aguni, and because he was feeling generous put a leg on the one next to him for Varuna. Poor Varuna had probably hated these stupid team-building farces more than he had, if he knew him.

Actually, he hadn't. Once away from Koumokuten and to a lesser extent Vahyu, Varuna had demonstrated that hey, he actually was good at leading people. His group had pulled together to make a flawless pyramid thanks to his use of a designs in the dust, a lot of pointing, and a willingness to compromise; nobody had hesitated on the rock thing; and he and his partner had perfectly negotiated the beach balls.

In contrast, Vahyu's team had given up on the pyramid after they hadn't been able to get two rows to stay up (which explained why they came back first, because everybody else took a long time to get that pyramid built); many of the workers had refused to fall off the rock until ordered to by Boquiesha; and while Vahyu had maneuvered Jane around the beach balls, he'd bumped into them when it was his turn, because he didn't like taking orders when he was convinced that he knew what he was doing.

So when Varuna came back with a smile on his face and a pretty woman slapping him on the back, Vahyu was put out. No fair! Wasn't it written in stone that if Vahyu suffered, at least Varuna would be worse off?

"Wow, that was kinda cool," the forelocked should-be scapegoat grinned as he sat down next to Vahyu. "I had fun! How about you, Charles? And you, Aguni and Tamara?"

"I sat here and listened to my iPod," Tamara said flatly. "Daddy said I could!"

"My team failed at the pyramid, but it wasn't my fault," Vahyu sullenly replied. "I was just put into a bad group." Which just went to demonstrate his lack of team spirit, Varuna couldn't help but think.

"I didn't partake in the team-building activities," Aguni informed him. "I'm not a Marketing employee, after all. But I did get the mics and such set up for the stage, and then I grilled myself another hotdog while I was waiting. And – ah! Here comes my dark overlord of desire!"

Indeed, Koumokuten was bearing down on them at the head of another group, another following that one. Indeed, groups were showing up from everywhere, as only the red group was still leading people around beach balls. Soon it would be time for the awards and such, and a special little treat, Koumokuten thought to himself.

"How'd it go, Charles and Edward?" he asked as he crossed over to them. "I commanded my group and molded them into a force that conquered all obstacles. How about you two?"

"So did I!" Varuna said proudly. "We made the pyramid without a hitch! And I was the one who was in charge of it, sir."

Koumokuten looked surprised, and questioned, "_You _took charge of your group? Really? If I ask Seamus will he tell me the same thing? Seamus!" he bellowed over his shoulder. "Did Edward really lead your group to victory?"

"That 'e did!" Seamus cheerfully called back in his Irish brogue, which Vahyu thought was ever so sexy. " 'E was like an army commander 'oo knew 'is soldiers well, and utilized 'em to their greatest effect! Never seen a human pyramid go up so fast, and that's God's own truth, Mr. Koumokuten sir!"

Varuna beamed proudly, and Koumokuten looked at him with new respect. Hmmm, maybe the guy wasn't such a dunce after all? Perhaps Varuna should be given a few more responsibilities, instead of Koumokuten delegating them to other people. If he could handle those, he might just find himself with a higher paycheck, like he'd asked for earlier.

Once the red group had come back, Koumokuten mounted the stage and appraised his subordinates and their families. They were all swatting mosquitoes, sweaty, and red-faced from the heat, and more than a few looked tired and/or grouchy. But too bad for them, because they still had an hour to go before they could go home. But surely this next event would take their minds off their surroundings.

"Attention, minions!" he bellowed, which made some people wince at the volume. Geez, the man had a microphone already, there was no need to shout!

"Weary workers, you're fortunate today," he continued with a beaming grin. "Because before we get to the raffle and the awards, my little Princess is going to sing a song for you. Tamara honey? Come up onstage, please."

Oh… no. Varuna had forgotten about this part!

Vahyu, in contrast, had remembered and wondered what they would be subjected to. He'd heard Tamara sing once before, at the reception of her dad and stepmom's wedding, and oh boy, she liked to show off her pipes. That was one thing he hated about highly-trained singers: they didn't sing songs the way they were written, just to let everyone see their dramatic vocal range. It annoyed him to no end, he thought as Tamara mounted the stage.

As she did, Koumokuten hopped down and went to sit next to Aguni, an expression of proud anticipation on his face. Oh wow, his employees were so lucky that his daughter was going to bless them with a song. As she adjusted the mic, he reflected that so many of them had never before had the opportunity to hear the sweet sounds of Tamara, poor souls.

"My daddy wrote this song," she said proudly into the microphone. "It's called 'March On for Marketing,' and it's wonderful. So without further ado…

"Arise, arise, soldiers of the corporation! – We must always show our dedication – Marketing is magical, and we're lucky to be in it – Marketing is powerful, and if there's a prize we win it," she belted happily.

As Tamara sang on, as overwrought as an R & B diva at the Grammys, Koumokuten beamed with pride. Surely he deserved some sort of songwriter's trophy for this, and didn't his daughter have such a nice voice? In fact, he decided, this would be his new ringtone. He would have her record it and put it on his phone, yay.

"Batter down the forces of the rivals we abhor – We must have constant vigilance, because men this is war – When ads fly on the airwaves ours must take precedence – When times are hard we must remember to always be on offense –

"March on for Marketing! – Under its flag we toil – March on for Marketing! – Careers grow in it like soil – Oh Marketing, Marketing! We love thy influence – Sweet Marketing! Oh Marketing! – It all makes so much sense!"

Vahyu chanced a glance over at Varuna, who despite himself was jiggling his foot in time to the song, and would probably mouth the chorus too, once he got it memorized. Vahyu himself thought this song was… actually kind of awesome. Yeah Tamara's singing was overdone and needlessly vibrato-filled, but the lyrics made perfect sense! Marketing was phenomenal, and they _were _the most important division in the company, he was convinced of that.

Tamara continued, "Others make the products but we put the spin on things – Our work is glorious and our hearts do sing – When profit margins rise, we all can say, 'I helped with that!' – When profit margins rise, we give ourselves a pat on the back –

"Under our genius leader we inspire the company – Xavier Koumokuten has brains enough for three – His vision and his drive, well they are simply great – His vision and his drive, they put food on our plate –"

She sang the chorus again, and now Vahyu looked at Aguni. She seemed torn between laughing and grinning proudly, because after all, her beloved snugglebear had written this song. Vahyu couldn't comprehend why she would be laughing, though, with such an inspirational piece of music. Then again, he couldn't comprehend why so many other people looked ill at ease, either.

"Marketing is our god! – Marketing is our life – Marketing isn't odd – Instead it's very nice – We love it so, we love it! – And we will surely crush – Any rival companies, because they just plain suck –

"March on for Marketing! – Under its flag we toil – March on for Marketing! – Careers grow in it like soil – Oh Marketing, Marketing! We love thy influence – Sweet Marketing! Oh Marketing! – It all makes so much sense! –

"Marrr… keeet… iiinnnggg! We love it so!" Tamara finished at the top of her lungs, and Koumokuten gave her a standing ovation, everyone else hastening to follow his lead lest they be yelled at. She lapped up all the attention, bowing and bowing some more, and grinning to beat the band.

Finally the applause died down, and Koumokuten took control of the microphone and bragged, "Now I think you can all see why she got the lead soprano in this spring's recital at her school. Thanks, Tamara. But now it's time for the awards. Liam? Liam, the list please."

Liam passed a piece of paper to Koumokuten, as other underlings brought out various plaques and tiny desk trophies. Or in the case of the Most Influential Team Member Award, a bigass trophy that Vahyu was already calculating where to put for the best effect. Maybe on the shelf near the windows? Right near his desk? Yes, yes that would work.

"Our first award is for market research, and it goes to Mr. Bob Robertson," Koumokuten proclaimed, as Varuna wondered what kind of sadistic parents would name their child "Robert" when his last name was already "Robertson." Poor Bob.

Vahyu won three awards. Varuna won none, and somehow, he had the sense that he hadn't even been considered for any. Koumokuten gave himself the Most Influential Team Member Award, and nobody had the guts to say what a gyp that had been. Tamara and Aguni, of course, clapped fervently for the man of the house, and in Aguni's case hollered, "Good job, precious!"

And of course, Varuna did not win the raffle prize of a trip to Chicago. Neither did Vahyu, which annoyed him to no end. Never mind that he could afford a number of trips to the Windy City, he'd wanted his free ride, dammit. No, some _cubicle dweller _won it! An unattractive woman with cellulite on her thighs, which _obviously _meant she was useless to humanity, Vahyu thought with a sniff.

By now the mosquitoes were swarming and the sun was starting to set, and finally Koumokuten wrapped up with, "Well, we've all had fun. Those of you in the yellow group get to stay and help clean up, the rest of us can go home. See you all at work on Monday, and remember… Marketing is magical, and we're lucky to be in it!"

The audience hastily assented, and the ones with yellow stickers on their nametags cursed their luck, in a few cases surreptitiously removing the damning mark. Vahyu and Varuna, pleased that they had purple and green respectively, quickly gathered their things and strode back to the parking lot. Vahyu was accompanied by the lucky Steven, who was carrying his three awards for him.

"Well, have a good evening Edward!" Vahyu farewelled, swatting a mosquito. "I'll see you on Monday. You know, that Marketing song is stuck in my head now. I'll be humming it all night!"

"So will I," Varuna agreed. "Our boss sure knows how to write catchy songs, that's for sure."

.

Now it was the third week of August, and Vahyu found himself doing something he'd never had to do before, which was chauffeur Tamara. Varuna and all of Koumokuten's prior assistants had had to do this, but today Varuna had a cold, and Koumokuten didn't want his little princess getting sick. Thus, Vahyu had been commanded to drive Tamara to that ritual observation of Tenou. At first he'd tried to wriggle out of it, but after he'd been told he'd be going to watch fencing practice, he'd changed his tune. Because actually, he was quite –

"Mr. Vahyu," Tamara demanded, "turn the radio on instead of this! I like Adam Lambert as well as the next person, but you've had 'Fever' playing nonstop on a continuous loop for the past half-hour! At least change it to a different song."

"Well, I suppose that depends on what station you want to listen to," Vahyu replied, pouting a bit.

"Fever" was his theme song, and he never, ever got tired of it. He sang it in the shower, he sang it to pick men up at clubs, he had it as his ringtone, and he had made a YouTube video of himself covering it with tons of fanservice (it pulled in millions of hits).

"I want to listen to WEST. You know, the one with all the current hits, not some dated schlock," she informed him.

Much better to hear the same fourteen songs ad nauseum than hear something that wasn't by the latest "it" artists! Surely being current and popular was better than being good, she was convinced that this was so.

Vahyu reluctantly switched to WEST, and endured "Want You Back," that awful song by a girl with a really annoying inflection, the one about her dumping her boyfriend because he wasn't cool enough, then dissing him and his new girlfriend because she wanted him back in her bitchy clutches. Oh God, Cher Lloyd… Simon Cowell's standards had really fallen since his "American Idol" days.

Finally the torture ended, and Vahyu desperately switched the radio off and tried, "You know, instead of us listening to music, why don't we talk instead? We know each other a little, but not too well. Now, your dad said you really like this Tenou Prince, and I want to know why."

Koumokuten had also said, "I actually no longer think he's a good fit for her," because he was trying to get Shashi and Bishamonten back together, and he'd only wanted Tamara to date Tenou in the first place because he was Taishakuten's future stepson. But alas, she was stuck on him, and her dad had to endure all sorts of mooning day in, day out.

"He's wonderful," she sighed in infatuation, unaware of that part. "He's handsome, he's polite, he's smart, he's kind, and he plays the guitar! And does fencing too, obviously."

"You know, Tammy," Vahyu said proudly, "I actually –"

"We're not talking about you, we're talking about Tenou," she snapped, cutting him off completely. As he frowned in annoyance, she went on, "But I think he's playing hard to get, I really do. I mean, he obviously likes me because he hasn't told me to leave him alone," she concluded in complete oblivion.

Vahyu, being a man who also couldn't take "no" for an answer, immediately agreed, "That's it, it's gotta be. I mean, c'mon, if he didn't like you, why wouldn't he say something? What kind of pushover wimp would endure somebody they didn't like stalking them?"

"Exactly! And I'm not stalking him," she protested, being completely untruthful. In fact, she'd had Varuna follow Tenou home one time, since Aguni wouldn't tell her where he lived. Now, she wondered if she should maybe show up at his door, on a holiday so he wouldn't have much going on. Genius!

"So I've never actually met him," Vahyu told her, taking the exit. "What's he look like?"

"He's got sexy, really red hair, shoulder-length and he puts it into a really loose ponytail. And he's got dreamy green eyes, and he's nice and tall, and he's just the handsomest guy I've ever met!" she gushed, a faraway look in her own eyes.

"He sounds good-looking, yes," he said cautiously. "What's his personality like?"

"Oh, he is the single sweetest person ever! And he's so smart he reads big, boring books on Nazi hunters in his spare time," she revealed, nearly awed by that. In _her _spare time, she read gossip magazines and occasionally the latest teen series (she had adored Twilight, which had made Koumokuten and Aguni want to beat their heads against the wall).

Vahyu thought Tenou's choice of leisure reading was cool. Daring tales of justice and detective work! It would be better if there had been some sexy scenes, although he wasn't sure he wanted to read about Simon Wiesenthal and such in bed. Well, at least he knew Tenou had a brain.

As Vahyu pulled into the parking lot, he was impressed. No tiny school tucked between a butcher's and a used clothing store for Tenou! The Charmand School of Fencing had its own building, only two levels including the basement but still. And it seemed to be well-kept, too.

As they walked in, Tenou was psyching himself up for a difficult conversation: telling René that he was quitting fencing. Why? Because of his newfound career path, playing the electric guitar. He'd finally prevailed upon Shashi to let him stop the fencing, but only after being the best child ever for two months and promising to stay good forevermore.

Shashi, who'd been worn down by the constant lists of pros to electric, and the lists of cons to fencing, and the multiple arguments on the subject, had given in. What else could she do? He was almost eighteen now, and at that point she wouldn't be able to force him to stay with fencing anyway. She was pissed about it, but had to accept it.

"Um, René?" Tenou asked politely, after a major mental pep talk. "René, I need to talk to you about something, please."

"Of course I shall talk to you, Tenou," René said jovially, coming over as Tamara and Vahyu loitered as near to Tenou as they could. "What eez eet zat you must tell me? Pairhaps you are eexcited for zee next competition?"

"Um, not exactly. You see, René…" Tenou took a deep breath and informed the master, "I'm going to stop fencing. I've found another thing I want to do with my life, and it's more fulfilling than this is. I wish I could do both, but –"

"Baht… baht you are my most _skeeled _pupil!" René protested, sounding absolutely distraught. "Tenou, I 'ave put a lot of work eento you, and you are desteened for glory! Zees eez a deceesion you should not make weethout a lot of t'ought, and eenput from –"

"I have given this a lot of thought," Tenou replied, a flush on his face but a firm tone in his voice. "René, I'm very grateful to you, and I don't regret fencing one bit! I loved doing it, but you know, I never saw myself doing it professionally. I _do _see myself being a professional rock musician, however."

All through this conversation Tamara had been gasping in horror. He couldn't quit fencing! Then how would she see him? Vahyu himself shrugged it off, because it wasn't his problem!

René took a deep breath of his own, and finally replied, "I see. I am most deespleased, baht I cannot force you to conteenue weeth the sport you were _born _to do. You are een your uniform, so you will make zees last practeece a good one! Undairstand?" he barked, his hands on his hips and glaring.

"Yes, sir!" Tenou agreed, thankful that that was all. "I won't slack off, you have my word."

And he didn't, not at all. He worked hard, and Vahyu murmured, "Too bad he's quitting, he's very good. Look at his footwork, Tammy! And those are some fancy parries," he complimented, nodding at Tenou.

"Uh-huh," Tamara said absentmindedly, too busy staring at her beloved's ass. "Nice footwork. Really nice. Yeah."

Blissfully unaware of that, Tenou was focusing on Bernadette, his instructor today. She sighed, "Father's very upset, you know. He was counting on you going to the Olympics, and I'm willing to bet he'll be crying later tonight. My mother will have to play some French music and make him his favorite dinner to calm him down, and then he'll call me when I'm trying to make _my _dinner and lament."

"I've already said that I'm sorry," he sighed back. "But I have to follow my heart, you know."

"Hmph."

That was all she said. Bernadette was a trifle caustic, and while he did like her he could see why other people didn't. But oh well, no longer would he have to deal with her prickliness, because he was going off to be a future rock star.

Hakuryuu in particular thought Tenou was gifted on electric, which Tenou knew might not automatically translate to being a rock god, but still. If he worked hard, he could make a decent living off it with a little luck, and boy, would he love his job! And seriously Charmand School of Fencing, he'd wanted to be a pediatrician before, not a pro fencer. He'd thought he'd made that pretty clear, but apparently not.

Over on the sidelines, Tamara whined to Vahyu, "I can't believe he's _quitting! _He was so talented at fencing, and I even went to one of his competitions and he won his bracket! Mr. Vahyu, this is awful!"

"What do you expect _me _to do about it?" he drawled in reply. "I'm not his mother, so I can't make him stick with something he doesn't want to do anymore."

"Talk some sense into him! Back me up when I tell him he's a god at this, and he shouldn't throw it away just to play guitar. Help me convince him to stay, so I can still see him regularly," she decreed, arrogant as her father.

But Vahyu put his foot down with a firm, "No, I'm not going to do that, because I can already tell it won't do any good. He's made up his mind, and you're not going to change it no matter what you say. And then he'll just get annoyed at you, and surely you don't want that."

At the prospect of making Tenou annoyed at her she backed down, but very reluctantly. She muttered, "Fine, I won't bug him, even though I _want _to."

"Good choice, Tammy. Bugging potential romantic partners is never a good idea," he replied seriously, which was a clear-cut case of the pot calling the kettle black. Why, if Bishamonten had decided to resign and move to Malaysia, Vahyu would have bothered him to no end.

Soon practice wound down, and Tenou came over to say, "Well, um, thanks for all your, uh, encouragement here. But at least now you can do something else in the evenings," he desperately tried.

As Tamara attempted one last time to get Tenou to go out for ice cream, Vahyu gazed at Bernadette, and made a decision. He nodded firmly and asked Tenou, "May I borrow your foil, Tenou? That looks fun! I want to try against her."

As Bernadette fought down a groan of "Idiot, I'd wipe the floor with you!" Tenou smiled apologetically and replied, "Mr. Vahyu, I'm sorry, you're not exactly wearing the required protective gear, and we don't want you getting hurt. Even with foils that –"

"Oh, please?" Vahyu pleaded, turning on the charm. As several other watching fencers felt a little flutter in their hearts at this gorgeous man, he went on, "Just a quick informal assault, nothing fancy. First touch wins! And Miss Bernadette, you're skilled enough to win without actually hurting me. A quick tap of the foil, and that's it."

"I might hurt your hand, and –"

"Would one of you nice people be so kind as to lend me a pair of gloves?" Vahyu called to the many smitten onlookers. There was an immediate chorus of "Sure!", "No, take mine!", "No, _mine!_" and such, but Bernadette weakly tried, "I can't spar him, my father would throw a fit if –"

"Oh, I don't see him here," Vahyu said brightly. "C'mon, if we start right now we can be done before he comes back from the restroom, or wherever he is. Whoever wants to see this, raise your hand!" he encouraged, pulling a dirty trick: peer pressure.

Over fifteen hands went up, Tamara's included, but mostly because she didn't want to be the uncool person and be left out. Tenou himself shook his head and mouthed, "Don't," to Bernadette, but Vahyu's dirty trick had worked. She sighed, glanced around, and ordered, "Okay, get your gloves and Tenou's foil, and be as quiet as you can, okay?"

"Oh goody," Vahyu beamed, accepting the sword from a reluctant Tenou. "This'll be great!"

They faced each other, performed a salute, and settled into the beginning positions. With a quick, "En garde!" Bernadette performed an appel and an advance paired with a lunge, which Vahyu easily parried, to the surprise of most of the watchers.

And then it was a lightning-fast conversation of blades, parries and attacks in equal measure, Bernadette's eyes wide behind her mask in shock. Retreats and lunges and ripostes, all sorts of strikes, and wow, where had this guy learned all this?

_Clang-clang-clang clang! CLANG!_

Vahyu beamed, danced back and parried with a quarte, then attacked again. Tenou watched in shock as his foil poked Bernadette right below the collarbone, and the entire room broke into applause. The great Bernadette Charmand had lost, to an unknown!

"How did you…?" Tamara breathed, and Vahyu replied, "Oh, swashbuckling is one of my many talents. Manly things are fun!"

"Sacre bleu!" a shocked voice came from the right. " 'Oo let zees man off zee street onto zee streep? And 'ow did 'e defeat my daughtair?"

Every head turned to see René, who looked like he didn't know whether to go into a rage or shout congratulations and compliments. As Bernadette stammered out an apology for bypassing safety and losing to a man off zee street, Tenou meekly told the master, "He's an, um, acquaintance of mine. He said he wanted to try, and –"

" 'Oo are you?" René asked Vahyu, a respectful tone in his voice. Clearly, he'd decided to go the non-raging route. He continued, "You 'ave eempeccable footwork, and also an eempressive attitude of being able to do anyseeng."

"Merci, René," Vahyu said in perfect French, smiling his megawatt smile. "My name's Charles Vahyu. I used to fence in my college days, but alas, I went into advertising and had to put down my foil, at least for competition. But now that I've been on the strip again, perhaps you might indulge me with some… _private_ lessons? I'm _ever_ so good with handling swords."

Tenou watched a parade of emotions pass over René's face at Vahyu spoke: surprised, impressed, appalled, and finally amused. "Monsieur Vahyu," he replied in rapid-fire French, "are you attempting to hit on me?"

"Oh, that depends," Vahyu purred in the same language. "Do you _want_ me to be attempting to hit on you? I do, as we Americans say, 'think you're hot.' " The last part was said in English, making Tamara whine, "Mr. Vahyu, stop being so gay! Daddy says you even hit on the janitor once!"

Vahyu sniffed, "He was a _sexy _janitor, and I had a great line. Anyway René," he smiled, switching back to French, "since your star pupil's out of the picture, surely you can make time for me? I really do want to get back into fencing."

"What's he saying?" Tamara whispered to Tenou, who muttered back, "He says he actually does want to fence."

"Per'aps I can," René decided, "but I am a marrieed man, you must see. Pleez not to 'eet on me again."

"Okay," Vahyu cheerfully agreed. "I didn't know you were married. But isn't this great? Tenou's going off to play the guitar, but I'm stepping into his shoes. How fortunate for us all!" he grinned, slapping Tenou on the back and making him wince slightly.

And so Charles Vahyu signed up for some private lessons, and was cautioned to never try to fence without protective gear again, because it could have ended very badly. Tenou dashed Tamara's ice cream hopes, and she pouted. He also shook René and Bernadette's hands, and thanked them once again for all the enjoyment he'd gotten out of fencing and all that he'd learned.

"Wasn't that great?" Vahyu asked as he drove Tamara home. "I'm so glad I came! And did you see my second septime? It was perfect, if I do say so myself."

"Be quiet. _Now _how am I supposed to see Tenou?! Maybe I should transfer schools," Tamara thought aloud.

He snorted, "Oh please. There is no way in _hell _your dad's taking you out of Westland Academy just so you can see a boy, you know it's true. But do you have his email? You can flood his inbox with declarations of love!" he suggested, forgetting that Tenou would simply send all of those to the recycling bin without opening them.

"I'm telling Daddy you're so unhelpful! You won't be so cocky when he's finished with you!" she screeched, making him wince.

"Please, I'm driving here! Look, I know you're upset and I'm sorry for that, but don't take your bad mood out on _me_. And you'll see him around! He's Taishakuten's future stepson, so he'll be at parties, and dinners, and other company functions. I mean, the executive picnic is coming up soon, and he'll be there and so will you," Vahyu pointed out, which made her pause.

That was true… he would be there! And _this _time she would wring his email and phone number from him, and if he didn't tell she'd wring it from Zouchouten, who was his friend. And then he wouldn't be able to escape her! And when you couldn't escape someone who loved you, that meant you fell in love with them too, or romcoms were all lying to her.

So when Vahyu dropped Tamara off, she didn't storm in and start throwing things around, for a couple of reasons. The first of course was that Aguni would go off on her and lock her in her room, and the second was that Vahyu had given her hope. She was still mad, though, and did stomp into the living room, to encounter an awful sight.

No, no sex, thankfully. But her dad and his wife were both on the couch, a little box of premium chocolates on the coffee table in front of them, and they had paused in the act of feeding pieces to each other as one of their favorite movies played on the huge HDTV: "Reign of Fire," that Christian Bale/Matthew McConaughey flick about dragons destroying civilization. And duh, there was fire galore.

"Hi, Tamara," Koumokuten said around a mouthful of nougat and chocolate. He quickly swallowed it and asked in concern, "What's wrong, honey?"

"Tenou quit fencing, and now I can't see him regularly!" was her reply.

Koumokuten pasted on a commiserating expression, while cheering inside his head. Yay! Now hopefully she could finally shut up about how great Tenou was, and go back to being his demure little offspring, and he wouldn't have to worry about premarital sex anymore – well, until she started crushing on another guy, that was.

"What a pity," Aguni said airily. "But we can't all have the man we love."

Tamara shot her a glare, and then said proudly, "But I'll see him at the next picnic, and I won't give up on him! He's the man for me, and no one else will ever compare. Even if he falls in love with someone else, I'll make him forget her and fall in love with _me _instead!"

Koumokuten heaved a mental sigh. So much for thinking he was out of the woods.

.

The next Monday, Varuna sighed as he handed Koumokuten another caramel macchiato. God, why couldn't the man buy them _himself? _Varuna had to pay for each one out of his own pocket, and if Koumokuten would just get his morning coffee on the way here, that would cut the cost in half.

Lately, the harried assistant had been working harder, having been delegated more tasks. But so far he'd been able to handle them, not that he got any recognition from his boss for doing so. But oh well… it was boosting his ego and his conclusion that Yasha was no better than he was, so he was in fact getting something out of it.

"Edward," Koumokuten said suddenly after lunch, interrupting some mental Yasha putdowns, "come into my office, I've got something to tell you."

"O…kay," Varuna meekly replied. This couldn't be good.

Would Koumokuten give him more responsibilities, so many he couldn't handle them? Would he give him a pay cut for one too many mistakes? Or – or had he knocked Aguni up, and there would soon be three awful mini-Koumokutens that Varuna had to babysit, oh God no!

Koumokuten took a seat at his desk chair, folded his hands on the desk, and ordered, "Take a seat."

Varuna obeyed, and braced himself for the triplets. Or a demotion. Or a pay cut, or a firing, or a sudden transfer to HR, the place even Taishakuten feared to tread too often. If Marketing was Hell, Human Resources was purgatory… worse in some ways, because at least Hell was _dramatic_.

"So guess what," Koumokuten said, a slight smile on his face. "Go on, guess."

"You're firing me?" Varuna squeaked, his eyes squeezed shut and wincing like he was awaiting some sort of physical blow. That had to be it, because Koumokuten was smiling, and that usually meant trouble.

But miracle of miracles, Koumokuten snorted, "No, dumbass. I'm giving you a raise. A small one, but you've earned it. You still need to work on the coffee fetching, but other than that, Edward, you've proved your worth. You're still not as good as Nina or Ellen or especially James, but you sure as hell beat Walter and Percy, _especially_ Percy."

Varuna held himself back from leaping up and pumping his fists in the air, belting a bragging, "I am the world's greatest" song. Instead, he grinned and replied, "Thank you so much, Mr. Koumokuten sir! How much?"

"Well, instead of making three thousand, seven hundred and fifty bucks per month, you'll now be making three thousand-nine hundred. Like I said, not much, but it adds up, as I'm sure you know. Now, Edward… you may head to lunch and wave this in Charles's face, even though _he _makes a lot more," Koumokuten smirked. "But who knows? Keep up the good work, and you might catch up to him someday."

Varuna vowed that he would, to himself as he thanked his boss again. And as he did a little happy dance in the elevator, he thought, _Not only will I catch up to Charles, I'll catch up to that snotty __James__. He thinks he's so wonderful, but I've just proven that I'm just as good!_

Actually he hadn't, and Yasha didn't really think of himself as the best because he was non-conceited like that, but hey, Varuna could think what he wanted in his glee. That was the great thing about humans: positive thinking, even when it was inaccurate, made a world of difference.

"Charles!" he said excitedly as he sat down across from Vahyu with three tacos on his tray. "Guess what, Charles!"

"Xavie decided to quit the macchiatos?" Vahyu obediently guessed.

"No, better! He gave me a _raise!_" Varuna loudly proclaimed, making the one of the occupants of the table next to him roll her eyes and mutter, "Whoopee-ding, idiot. You're still underpaid for dealing with that tool."

Vahyu asked incredulously, "He _did? _But he said he wouldn't just a month ago, and threatened you with a pay cut if you ever brought it up again! So clearly, you didn't bring it up and this was all his idea. Did he say _why?_" he queried, wondering if maybe Varuna had earned enough brownie points from off-the-clock chores to translate to a higher paycheck.

"As a result of me flawlessly executing my new responsibilities, he said I had earned more money. He of course qualified that with a dig about the coffee and not being as good as Nina, Ellen, and that doofus James, but he said I'm better than _Walter_," Varuna bragged.

"So now, of course, your life will be better," Vahyu smiled, then amended, "At least slightly. I mean, Xavie's still Xavie, after all."

"I would prefer him not to be," Varuna agreed with a sigh, "but at least now, I don't have to drive Tamara to that fencing place, _and _I have more money. And do you know the first thing I'm gonna do with it?"

"What?"

"Buy myself a massage spa package. Get rid of all that tension I'm carrying in my neck and shoulders, at least until he piles it on again," Varuna replied.

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(AN: As far as I know, Vahyu's favorite bathtime book doesn't exist. With a title like Touch My Skin, I'll Touch Your Heart, let's hope it doesn't. "Dr. Doomsday's Destruction Derby" and "Demon Mermaid Adventures" are also straight from my head, although the last one is a reference to another fandom of mine. And of course I don't own "Every Breath You Take" by the Police, which is a very creepy song but I still like it. The lyrics were used without permission, and please don't sue me, Sting and Company.

"Fever" is off the album "For Your Entertainment," and is one of those songs that it's very clear is being sung by a gay man. I love Adam Lambert, just so you all know, but I wouldn't want to listen to that track for half an hour. Others yes, but not that one.

If any of you fence and saw something I got wrong, please point it out! I was tempted to have Vahyu slap Bernadette with a glove, but I'm pretty sure they don't do that anymore, alas. Too bad, it would have been funny.

Next time, you're in for a treat: Karura and Zouchouten! Some of you may know by now that they're my favorite "RG Veda" pairing, so I had a lot of fun writing that chapter. What will it contain? It'll contain much imbibing of coffee, a simply terrible dinner date, Karyoubinga singing a [good] song to her sister's boss, and many more hopefully amusing and/or fluffy things.)


	5. Infatuation

**Chapter Five: Infatuation**

_Boss/underling affairs are a no-no. Zouchouten seems to have missed that brief._

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(AN: Ah, time for the fluffiest installment of this entire fic! Be forewarned that there's naughty May-October business and violent fantasies directed at background characters, plus some adult language. But if you wanted cute Karyoubinga… you're in luck. If you wanted a cute dog… you're also in luck. Heck, if you wanted Zouchouten's cute omake wife, you're still in luck, sort of.

And if you wanted the tango, you're in luck too. Remember, it was mentioned in "Adele," so now we get to actually see it. And I know at least one of you wanted to see what happened in Kumaraten's office, so Tata at least should be pleased by that! It's not detailed, I'm keeping this to a "T" rating, but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway.)

.

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(July 30th, 2012)

"And so, if we concentrate our efforts in microchip production…"

Arthur Taishakuten droned on and on, emphatically indicating charts and other graphics with a pointer, because he thought laser lights "are just not the same." Xavier Koumokuten doodled a series of intricate designs on his notepad, Reginald Bishamonten hung on the CEO's every word, and Aaron Zouchouten wondered what was for lunch. Steak? No, they'd had that last week, and Taishakuten hated caterers who served him the same thing within a month. Too bad, Zouchouten liked steak. He hoped it wasn't that weird bird's nest stuff they'd had last year, that had been disgusting.

"…And with an increase in production, our projected quarterly earnings will…"

Maybe… fish? Maybe Cajun chicken, Taishakuten liked that. Just not tofu, tofu was a horrible invention. Zouchouten briefly let his mind wander off to a wonderful land where tofu was never created and meat could consumed at every single meal, and one didn't have to worry about potential heart problems. He then returned his attention to the matter at hand.

Yes, it was probably Cajun chicken, as they hadn't had that for a while and the CEO was quite fond of it. Great, Zouchouten liked it too. And damn it, it was already one o'clock. He was hungry and he had read all the briefs anyway. He would read the minutes of the meeting later, the chicken was getting cold, and why wouldn't Taishakuten take pity on his executives? Sometimes that man just liked to cause distress, which was a polite way of saying, "He likes making people suffer."

"Any questions?"

Oh hallelujah, it was over. Zouchouten glanced frantically at Bishamonten, who started to raise a hand as everyone else grimaced. Dammit, why did the head of Expansion insist on prolonging these things? But then Taishakuten smiled and purred, "That's good. I think the caterer's going to overcharge me if we don't eat now."

Obedient laughter swelled through the room, and Bishamonten hastily put his hand down. With a clear signal like that, he wasn't about to annoy Taishakuten. The CEO nodded indulgently, and told his many underlings, "You may go."

Zouchouten gathered his papers into his briefcase, grinning with relief. Thank God, it was time for food. Breakfast had been eaten on the run, dinner would no doubt be eaten while reading notes, but lunch… lunch was the main meal of the day, and he could relax and consume it like a normal person, not a cog in a machine.

He sat down at his assigned seat, at the table reserved for the Generals of the Boardroom (today Taishakuten was honoring some mere regular executives by sitting with them). Koumokuten was already there, pulling out his phone and smiling, "Hey Aaron. It's shrimp."

Zouchouten lit up, because shrimp was better than chicken any day. He queried, "What kind is –?"

His friend cut him off with an upraised hand and a happy, "Hey baby! Meeting's finally broken up. How's my fire blossom?"

Apparently it was time for another exciting edition of "The Aguni and Koumokuten Love-Love Show," Season Five, Episode Five Bajillion. Zouchouten was glad in a way that Koumokuten was so happy, as his first wife had been such a terrible bitch to him and everyone else, but now the rest of the world had to deal with sappy silliness. Constantly.

As Koumokuten babbled on, Bishamonten appeared, shooting the happy Marketing Senior VP a glare. Koumokuten didn't notice, too occupied with asking, "Were you thinking of me when those brats were climbing the ropes? Did it remind you of our magical tree-climbing experience? …Good! I knew it would."

"Aaron," the redhead ordered, "shut him up before I snap."

Poor Bishamonten. His wife had temporarily moved to the land of hockey and pop stars, his former lover/current mother of his child/source of heartache was being all unattainable and engaged to Taishakuten, and his secretary had just the other day performed a song over the PA system called "Let's All Change That Printer Toner When We Use the Last of It." As annoying as Victor Kujaku's ditty had been, and as sad as Kisshouten's flying the coop was, the Shashi thing was causing the man major problems, and Koumokuten's cheerful, "Darling, have I told you I would die for you? …Aw, thanks Pele!" was _not _helping.

Zouchouten tried, "Hey Xavier? Food's here. Hang up, okay?"

Indeed, plates of shrimp had been set before the three of them. Koumokuten blinked at his, as if he'd never seen such food before, and sighed, "Babe, I gotta go now, okay? …Yes, I love you too! …Well, I love you more."

Bishamonten picked up a fork and stabbed his defenseless lunch.

"…No way, because _I _love _you _more-bye!"

Koumokuten hung up his phone triumphantly; now his wife couldn't one-up him. Bishamonten chewed violently, Zouchouten took a sip of water, and Koumokuten said gleefully, "Hey, shrimp!"

Bishamonten glared at him and growled, "Yes, Xavier. Shrimp."

Koumokuten leveled his fork at Bishamonten with a haughty, "Reginald, your tone is unacceptable. Don't act like you're suffering whenever you have to speak to me. Go be a pill to James and Victor, because that's what minions are for," he said arrogantly, completely confident in the accuracy of his words.

Zouchouten stabbed a shrimp of his own, muttering, "Can't we all just find a safe subject we can talk about? Like… the weather." Nobody ever killed people with cutlery over the weather, after all.

Bishamonten nodded in relief and said, "Yes, such a lovely summer day."

Koumokuten smiled, setting down his weapon, and agreed, "Yup, beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky."

They all paused, realized not much else could be said, and went back to their food, each thinking his own thoughts. Zouchouten had no idea what the others were occupied with mentally, but he himself thought of sky-blue eyes, turned up at the corners in a smile. Those eyes popped up in his thoughts a lot lately, even though he'd only seen them that happy once. And a voice went along with them: "Thank you, Aaron. She'll love them."

He whiled away lunch thinking of possible situations where such a smile and warm thanks might be repeated, and found himself walking down the hall with Koumokuten. Their offices were on the same floor, and they (and Bishamonten) had a habit of walking together whenever possible. Not only did it present a united front to their subordinates, they were all close pals and had fun with each other… usually.

Koumokuten's phone rang then, and he answered it in his best executive voice. "Hello, you've reached Xavier Koumokuten, head of Marketing." And then he beamed like an infatuated bozo and almost giggled, "Why honey! What's up?"

Zouchouten rolled his eyes. Bishamonten was right, this was annoying as all get-out. He left Koumokuten purring, "And did that whiny parent give you any more trouble after that?" and stalked to his own office, and his own object of infatuation. Ellen Karura nodded to him in greeting and asked, "Did you have a nice lunch, Aaron?"

"Yes, yes I did." He paused, and then added, "It would've been nicer if you were there, though."

She shrugged it off in complete innocence, replying, "Executives only. And anyway, you need a break from work. It's good for you to just concentrate on eating."

She thought he'd wanted her there because they could discuss business, damn it all to hell. She didn't get it. He gave her honest compliments, and loved her company, and sent her sister flowers, and that was when she'd smiled and thanked him. She seemed oblivious to any hints of desire, and it made him want to beat his head against a wall.

She was stern. She was almost frigid. She seemed to have very little else in her life besides work and her sister, she was brilliant, and she was his excellent assistant who could be a manager herself. She hardly ever smiled, and when she did, it was usually only to talk about little Karyoubinga, her sister, who she loved like she was her own child. Karyoubinga was her focus, and he wanted to meet her someday just to see why Karura loved her so much.

And he wanted his assistant like he couldn't remember wanting anything else in his entire life. Not his deceased wife Kelly when they'd been dating, not even the child that he and his wife had never had the chance to have. It was one of those "My life has been leading up to this" things, and it was just his luck that hers hadn't.

He had met Karura at a company picnic ten years ago, as the teenage daughter of one of his underlings. With an arm around his wife, Stuart Karura had beamed and said, "Sir, this is my daughter Ellen. She's on the honor roll and wants to be an executive herself."

Zouchouten had smiled at the sixteen-year-old and teased, "Oh you do, do you? You want to work fifteen-hour days?"

She had nodded seriously and replied, "Yes. I practically work fifteen-hour days now, with my academics. I take advanced placement classes in every subject except for gym. My grade-point average is one of the highest in our district."

Zouchouten had smiled, proud of this girl he'd never met before, and praised, "That's wonderful. Stuart, maybe I should consider hiring her!" he'd joked. They'd all laughed, except young Karura, who'd seemed to think smiling was a waste of time.

And then, four years ago, Stuart had asked, "Sir, do you remember my daughter Ellen? She's looking for a job. She was head of her class in college and she's a real go-getter. She thought maybe you might be able to make use of her. She remembers you from that picnic, and I talk about you a lot, and she says you sound like a wonderful boss to work for."

Zouchouten had just sighed, "Stuart, I don't hire people, that's HR's doing. Talk to them."

Stuart had pleaded, "Sir, I did, but the application's taking so long to be processed and she _needs_ something to do. She's throwing herself into this, and the longer it takes the more she's stretched thin. If you put in a good word for her, she'll get hired, I _know _she will. Then she can stop pacing around and calling her sister every hour, even when Karyoubinga's taking a nap."

Zouchouten had shrugged. He'd needed a new assistant anyway, really. So he'd told Stuart, "Okay, I'll give her an interview."

A week later, a pale woman, white hair partially tied back into a bun/ponytail and the rest of it shorter, had walked in wearing a blue pantsuit and shaken his hand. Her grip had been firm, steady, and capable, and he'd made sure not to squeeze too hard or he would hurt her. That was something he saved for corporate enemies, ha.

"Thank you, Mr. Zouchouten, sir. It was very kind of you to give me this opportunity," she'd said, a confident yet respectful tone in her voice. "I promise you that you won't regret it, and if you hire me I'll work so hard you won't believe it."

And he had ended up hiring her. She was smart, she was capable, and she didn't whine like Ramone had when she had to work overnights. He liked her a lot, and was impressed by her skills. He'd found himself liking her more and more, telling her about his life and what he thought about anything under the sun. And she liked him back, he knew this. She didn't smile often, but her eyes lit up when she was interested, and she seemed to really be interested in whatever it was they discussed.

He'd asked her, on the first company picnic they attended as boss and assistant, "I don't see anyone with you. Where's your boyfriend?"

She'd frowned and muttered, "We broke up. I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry," he had told her honestly, because seeing her sad was rather hard. He'd thought about making an offer of "If you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here," but decided that since she'd already said she didn't want to discuss this, that might make him look pushy. They'd gone on with the picnic, had fun, and on his way home, something had occurred to him.

She was single and he was single. Hmm, maybe they could be… _not single _together?

Such a random and rather silly thought really should have made him shake his head and mutter, "Now don't be stupid." Instead, it had made him almost forget to brake because he had just smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. Yes, Ellen Karura and Aaron Zouchouten… it even _sounded _good, and boy, they would complement each other very was wonderful. He could probably be exceedingly happy with her. He might even, if he tried hard enough, make her happy too.

So the next day, Zouchouten had studied Karura carefully. Capable, extremely capable. And kind, very kind. She was assertive, not aggressive, and she asked after people's families and really listened to their problems. Yes, perfect mate material. But research was needed. So he'd asked her father casually, a week later, "Your daughter said she broke up with her boyfriend. Any idea why?"

Stuart had gripped a pencil so hard it snapped in his hand, and replied, "The bastard was cheating on her. With her best friend, no less," he'd growled, like such a thing deserved the death penalty, hopefully with the good ol' electrocution method.

Zouchouten had frowned and rumbled, "That's terrible. She doesn't deserve that."

"No, she _doesn't_," Stuart had agreed vehemently. "She had to hold me back from beating him to a pulp, sir. I warned her not to get involved with older men!" he'd intoned, shaking his finger in a cautionary manner.

_All right, she likes older men! _Zouchouten had cheered in his thoughts, mentally punching his fists in the air and yelling, "I'm one of those!" _And __I__ would never cheat on her. Hell, I never cheated on anyone, ever since Susie Ying agreed to go to a movie with me._

"Five whole years!" Stuart had fumed. "My sweet innocent Ellen was taken in completely."

Zouchouten had paused, unsure of what to say next and rather nervous at Stuart's rabid defense of his little girl. He'd come up with, "Say, Stuart, I have a friend who might be good for her. Do you want me to introduce them?" he'd asked, like a helpful boss with absolutely _no _designs on his underling's kid.

Stuart had shaken his head, hard and longer than necessary, and replied, "That's very kind of you sir, but no. She told me she was done with dating forever. My poor daughter, hurt and betrayed! She dumped him herself, you know. He pleaded for her to stay with him, but she made it clear that it was over," he'd said proudly.

Zouchouten had been rather proud too, and complimented, "Good for her. No sense dating a bastard. Well, Stuart, don't go around beating people to a pulp, okay?" he'd grinned as he turned to go.

He'd walked off, thinking. Done forever, huh…

She was no doubt heartbroken and angry. Who wouldn't hate men after that? But, he'd assured himself, if he gave her time to heal and didn't push it, and told her upfront that he wouldn't hurt her like that, she'd change her mind. If she didn't that was okay, he'd told himself, and it was true then. He would just let it go, and they'd just be friends, and surely that would be fine.

It _had _occurred to him that dating your underling was a bad thing. He'd mentally listed all the consequences that might befall him if it became public, and actually had briefly tried to dissuade himself from this course of action the night before. But really, he'd ended up deciding, who could blame him? She was wonderful, and maybe they'd just keep it under wraps.

It had started out as some sort of casual office crush, but within the space of a year it had turned to full-blown unrequited love. He'd dreamed of her and hated business trips because she couldn't always come with him, and when she did he'd brightened up whenever she came into the hotel breakfast room. He'd wanted to punch a low-level worker who'd sighed, "Ms. Karura is so hot," to his buddy. He'd even started to write her love letters, which he kept on his computer and never sent.

He had it bad, but she had no idea. He'd sent her flowers for her birthday, he'd told her, "Ellen, I like you so much, and I'm giving you a raise," and he'd considered dropping to one knee and kissing her hand like some anachronistic, chivalrous knight of old.

And it hadn't seemed to enter her mind that he was interested in her. The one time he'd tried to steer the conversation around to asking her out, she'd told him, "Aaron, if you like movies so much, find yourself a girlfriend. Yes I'd love to go out as a friend, but people might get ideas."

He'd refrained from saying, "That's what I'm trying to do here," and nodded, "Yes, of course. I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

And horribly, a month later her father had died suddenly, falling off a ladder as he cleaned his gutters. His neck had been broken, killing him near-instantly, which was probably good because he would've been completely paralyzed anyway and with brain damage to boot. Karyoubinga was the one who'd found him, actually, having heard a scream and a crash and run out to see that she was now an orphan, as her mother had died years earlier.

_Dammit Stuart_, Zouchouten had thought helplessly at the funeral, _I paid you more than enough to hire someone to do that for you! _

"My dad was independent," Karura had murmured at the funeral luncheon, looking washed out in her black dress. "He liked to do things himself whenever he could. I guess in a way, his death was appropriate, and if he had to go, better quickly than with a lingering illness that would have sapped all his independence and strength from him."

Zouchouten had gazed at her, solemn and sad, and murmured in reply, "Ellen, I'm so sorry. I liked your father. He was a good friend."

He had been. Stuart had practically hugged his boss when he'd been told that his daughter had been hired, and they'd been rather close. So Zouchouten had felt like the biggest, most heartless monster in the world when he'd thought, _Maybe she'll throw herself into my arms and need comforting._

Of course she hadn't. She'd cried all alone and gone on with her life. He kept hinting, and those hints kept going right over her head, which was maddening.

He briefly imagined being very masculine and forceful, and backing her against a wall, grabbing her hand, and telling her, "I want you. I've wanted you for years, and I _love _you. Now put down that palm pilot, and we'll punch out from work and check into a motel. That's an order, Ellen."

But nope, that wasn't his style at all. Sure he could lay down the law and put the fear of God into employees, rival companies, and his shiftless brother Elbert, but being alpha-male with women just wasn't _nice_. He knew he was a good candidate for that sort of thing, given his build and his intimidating appearance, but this was the age of equal rights and respect… in theory, anyway, he was often disgusted by how much sexism and domestic violence he encountered/heard about every day.

In a nutshell, he didn't want to be pushy. But maybe someday, some glorious day, she would show interest in him and then he could show off his sensitive side. He could say to his all-important assistant, "Ellen, I am so in love with you that I'm being driven insane each time you brush it unknowingly off. Please, let's have dinner. Please, let's give each other romantic tokens. Please, let's get married, and have three children we'll both dote on…"

"Sir?"

"I love children," he murmured, before his mind caught up to his mouth.

Karura blinked at him in surprise, and told him, "I'm sorry, I don't think I follow. Do you need me to repeat what I said?"

"Never mind," he sighed, and quickly lied, "I was just thinking about my nieces. One of them is pregnant, she just found out yesterday. She's hoping for a little girl, but of course wouldn't say no to a little boy."

She nodded seriously and replied, "That's good, Aaron. I'm sure you'll be a wonderful uncle to that child. Or, well, great-uncle," she amended, which made him feel like a doddering old man, one who was two steps away from turning into dust.

But he smiled, "Thank you, Ellen." An opening had presented itself, and he rushed headlong towards it with a quick question of "How's your sister Karyoubinga?"

Miraculously, she gave him a tiny smile as she answered, "She's doing wonderful, thank you for asking. She asked me about you the other day, you know."

"She did?" he tried to confirm, all sorts of scenarios arising in his mind: Karyoubinga (whatever she looked like) smiling, "Ellen, is he nice? If he is, you should marry him!" Or, "Ellen, can I meet him and play matchmaker?" Or maybe, "Ellen, does he know how you lie awake at night and dream of being with him?"

But no. Karura nodded, still smiling slightly, and told him, "Yes, she did. She wanted to know if you liked music. She's a singer, you see. I talk about you a lot, and she said, 'I want to thank him for those flowers he sent me. Maybe I can sing to him?' She'd honestly like to, Aaron. And she's quite good."

"Well, of _course_ she can." He refrained from adding, "That's a no-brainer," and continued with, "I'd love to meet her. You love her so much, and she sounds sweet."

He also refrained from adding, "You're sweet too. You make sure I have the exact coffee I need at any given time, and you stay late and look at me calmly with warmth in your eyes. And you smile at my jokes, and never snoop through my desk like Ramone did."

They set up a time for Karyou to come into the office, and he had to wonder if she looked exactly like a younger Karura or if they didn't resemble each other much at all. He didn't resemble his brother, but he did look a lot like his dad, and he and his sister had the same coloring. Thankfully Mary Jo didn't have the same facial structure or build, she would have hated that.

So his day continued, and she left, and he sighed and left too. Crossing to his Cadillac SUV, he filled his mind with work so he wouldn't have to fill his mind with thoughts like, _I'm so old, and she's so young, and it wouldn't work, and we're just friends._

He ate dinner, did more work on his laptop, made himself a drink, did more work, and when it was eleven-thirty at night, shut down his computer. Then he changed into pajamas, brushed his teeth, washed his face, brushed his hair, and then looked at himself, sighing in resignation. Oh, those stupid, wild, much darker eyebrows. People gave him weird looks, obviously thinking, _There's no point in lightening your hair with eyebrows like that, idiot._

Annoying, annoying creases beside his mouth. Frowns shouldn't mark themselves on one's face like that, like a grumpy downturn of the mouth was one's natural expression. Golden eyes that were piercing like a cat's (all they needed were slitted pupils), and had those goddamned bags under them. Not to mention needed glasses for reading, and were probably going to need regular glasses at some point too.

He stared at his reflection, taking in every line on his face. Fifty-two years old… he'd been so young, he thought, when he'd run around with his girlfriend Kelly in his convertible Mustang with Duran Duran blaring on the stereo, laughing, "Babe, let's go to Vegas for the hell of it!"

He often wondered what Kelly would have looked like by now. She'd been only twenty-two when she'd died. Even if she'd been obese and wrinkled and with snow-white hair, he sighed, her eyes and smile would have been the same and she would have been _beautiful. _

Her widowed husband had thrown himself into keeping in shape, stubbornly plucked any stray grey hairs, and fought off reading glasses until they couldn't be avoided. He worked out like a maniac, ate healthy, and tried to think positive thoughts. He didn't partake in plastic surgery or tanning beds and never would, but he was kicking and screaming as age dragged him off.

Why? Well, maybe because he'd wanted to look somewhat like he had when his wife had last kissed him goodbye, so she could watch him from wherever she was and recognize him. Alas, he'd come to suspect that there was in fact no afterlife, but he still hated getting older. And… by now, maybe he wanted to pretend that he wasn't _that _much older than Karura.

She liked him. She respected him. They were _friends_.

And he wanted to grab her around the waist and carry her off to Hawai'i. He wanted to order an entire room full of lilies and white roses. He wanted to show up at her door with a new car for her and beam, "Darling of my heart, I _love _you!" He wanted to kiss her and tell the world, "I am going to marry this wonderful woman!"

Instead, he wrote her those love letters. And kept complimenting her for her good work. And had wonderful dreams of her confessing, "I love you too! I've wanted you for years, and I can't bear it anymore. Take me in your arms, you man to end all men, and our hearts will sing a song of joy. _Kiss _me, Aaron!"

And of course he would. He always looked late-thirties in those dreams too, but oh well. They could be in the office, or on a beach, and once in the middle of an alien attack, but it always ended in passionate lovemaking (thankfully the aliens all kind of faded away). And then he woke up, and thought, _Yeah, right. Leaving aside how stupid those lines were, she'd never do that._

"You poor sucker," he told his reflection with a lowering of those brows. "No wonder Xavier and Reginald keep laughing at you behind their hands."

.

As Zouchouten was pulling into his garage, Karura hung her suit coat up, slipped her low heels off, walked into her living room, and collapsed onto her couch with a sigh. Oh, her life was so hard. Another day, another dollar, another torturous block of time with her heart thumping painfully each time her boss asked, "Ellen? Can you make me some more coffee, please?"

Oh yes. Ellen "Ice Queen" Karura was quite infatuated herself. She was so infatuated, in fact, that she kept a little notebook full of "Platonic Relationship Self-Talk" with her in her pocket at all times, just so she could pull it out when he wasn't looking and stop herself from doing something stupid. It was her talisman that kept her from getting fired, she was firmly convinced of this.

"Ellen," he'd smile, "you look nice today."

She'd _want _to reply, "Aaron, you noticed! I hate putting on makeup, but I do it for _you_," but the self-compiled (and by now almost memorized) notebook would warn her that, "Projecting my feelings onto my unsuspecting boss is bad. Nod and say 'thank you,' then hand him his coffee."

"My goodness Ellen," he'd say, "that was the fastest I've seen anyone compile a list like that."

She'd _want _to reply, "I'm glad you're impressed by it, because I'm only able to be so fast when I'm helping _you_," but the notebook would caution, "Don't make the poor man uncomfortable. Nod and do the next task."

"Say, Ellen," he'd ask, "would you like to sit with me at lunch?"

She'd _want _to reply, "Yes! Yes, and then I want to go home with you and do things my father would scream at," but the notebook would chide, "Being a nymphomaniac is not appropriate. Shake head and say, 'I have some reading to do, sorry.' "

Why was she in love with her boss? For a number of of reasons, like he was kind, he was intelligent, he was responsible, and she had a secret affinity for ripped men who could probably lift her up like she weighed as little as one of her finches. But mostly it was his personality, although the build didn't hurt, not at all. She liked her men _manly_, not pretty, and he certainly wasn't an androgynous pretty boy, nuh-uh.

She even thought his sideburns were attractive, that was just how infatuated she was. She also thought his gravity-defying hair was sexy, because it fit his image. She had even gotten to the point of thinking that men with tenor voices sounded girly in comparison, and that all the men her own age were immature and shallow. Well, minus Yasha, but he wasn't a potential mate anyway.

And here was the funniest part: she had no idea what Zouchouten felt for her. She thought he was just being friendly, and that she was reading too much into his actions. Poor, unobservant Karura… it was a character flaw of hers.

"Sister?" her little sister's voice said, and she turned her head to see the seven-year-old Karyoubinga, cute as could be, coming towards her from the kitchen and continuing, "Hi!"

Karyoubinga called Karura "sister" because "Ellen" had been too hard to pronounce at one year old. She of course also called her by her first name now, but "sister" was the term of endearment she used, like "sis" but said with near-reverence. Karura, after all, was just the coolest person in the world to Karyoubinga.

"Hello, Karyou," Karura smiled, giving her a hug. She then went on, "Karyou, this Thursday you have the day off from school, and my boss Aaron said he'd love to have you come sing for him. I'll pick you up at three in the afternoon, bring you to the office, and have you sing, then I can punch out and we can go home. Is that all right with you?"

Karyoubinga chirped, "Sure. I'll sing – I'll sing 'La Traviata,' you like that one so much."

"I never get tired of hearing it," Karura agreed. "But then again, you could be singing the alphabet song and I'd like it, your voice is so good."

That was how it went: they were closely bonded and thought the other could do no wrong. Ever since Karura's mom had discovered that whoa, she was pregnant at thirty-nine, the then-nineteen Karura had been devoted to her younger sibling. And after her mom passed away from cancer three years later and Stuart fell off that ladder two years after that, she'd taken on the duty of raising the little girl. Karura was proud of Karyoubinga, and her singing _was _exceptional. So when Thursday rolled around and she brought Karyoubinga up to Zouchouten's office, she was ready to brag.

The seven-year-old stared around this hallway on the forty-ninth floor, in awe. Wow, so this was where Karura worked! It was so _businesslike_, everybody in suits or at least nice oxford shirts and ties (the men) or nice blouses and heels (the women).

And then, a voice could be heard as they approached Zouchouten's office. It was a deep voice, very deep, and it sounded mad. Karyoubinga gave Karura a quizzical look, and Karura sighed apologetically and told her, "That's Aaron. Something must have upset him."

With that she opened the door, to reveal Zouchouten punching a button on his phone with a grouchy expression on his face. Uh-oh.

Karyoubinga gave him a rather nervous look. This guy was _big_, and scary-looking, and his voice was so deep she could feelit. Was this really the man her sister said was so nice?

And then he smiled, and suddenly she felt a whole lot better. Now he looked much less intimidating, if you just focused on his face. When those eyebrows weren't lowered in a glower and that stern mouth wasn't turned down, he seemed _way _more approachable, and maybe he'd just been talking to somebody who'd done something wrong?

She was completely correct, and he apologized, "I'm sorry, I just got off the phone with someone who made a major mistake, after being cautioned not to numerous times. I'm sorry if I scared you, Karyou. You don't mind if I call you that?"

"No, Mr. Zouchouten."

"Oh, you can call me 'Aaron,' it's only fair," he smiled. "I have to say, you look so much like a younger version of your sister. Such a striking family," he complimented, making Karyoubinga grin and Karura smile too. Yay, they were pretty! Or in Karyou's case cute, but oh well, she'd be almost as beautiful as her sister when she got older.

"I'm going to sing 'La Traviata,' " she informed him with a proud smile. "It's one of my favorites, and Ellen says my rendition is the best she's ever heard."

It was the best rendition Zouchouten had ever heard, too. Unlike certain teenagers named Tamara who piled on the overwrought embellishments, Karyoubinga sang the song as it was written, and she sang it very well indeed. Her voice was pure and sweet, she could hit incredibly high notes with ease, and she did it all with a smile.

And as she sang, she noticed something. Karura was staring at her boss, watching his every reaction and smiling when he smiled, which was often. Hmm. Karyoubinga made a mental note to mull this over later, when she didn't have to concentrate on the song. But for now, she sang her heart out, and people down the halls stopped to listen with blissful expressions on their faces.

By the time she finished, there was an audience outside in the halls, and Zouchouten's secretary Sandra had her ear pressed up against his office door. As Zouchouten gave Karyou a standing ovation, the people in the halls clapped too and Sandra yelled, "Encore!"

Karyoubinga, flushed with praise, looked at Karura as if to ask, "Can I sing some more?" Her big sister nodded, and Karyou launched into "Lascia Ch'io Piangia," which was also something wonderful. Zouchouten reminded himself to tell Koumokuten, "I heard a better singer than your daughter the other day, Ellen's sister Karyoubinga. And get this, she's only seven. Howdja like _that?_"

"That was beautiful, Karyou," he complimented when she finished, coming over to shake her hand. "You're the most talented singer I've ever met."

"Can I give you a hug?" she asked solemnly. Some people hated physical contact, and after Karyou had made the mistake of hugging a classmate with sensory issues in kindergarten, she'd learned that it was best to ask before you glomped somebody.

But no worries here. Zouchouten beamed and replied, "Yes, you can give me a –"

Before he'd finished speaking, she's hugged him around the waist, being unable to reach anywhere near his shoulders. She liked this guy! And Karura thought he was great, so anyone she liked so much was somebody Karyoubinga liked a lot too. Not to mention, she now had the sneaking suspicion that her sister might, in fact, be interested in her boss, as she was an observant little girl who knew Karura better than anyone in the world.

The grinning Zouchouten gingerly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, because if he used his full strength for a hug he'd probably hurt her. But they'd hit it off, and for the rest of the hour chattered on about Karyoubinga's school, what else she liked to sing, the fact that they both liked animals, how grateful Zouchouten was to have Karura as his assistant, and how Karyoubinga should make sure to come to the company picnic in September.

"I haven't gone to the other ones because I was scared," she said simply. "Ellen says Taishakuten is a psycho."

As Karura cringed in the background for her sibling's loose lips, Zouchouten smirked a bit and replied, "Well, he isn't what you'd call a kind man, but he's a brilliant CEO and a very strong person. If not for him, none of us would be making what we do and have the clout to talk in the office like this."

After his new friend and his old love interest had gone home, he thought to himself, _That little girl is really something. No wonder Ellen smiles so much whenever she talks about her. And those pipes… wow. She'll go far in music, and I hope she sticks with it because she's so incredibly talented. The current climate could use a singer like her._

He knew what he liked, musically. And that was not rap, screaming discordant rock, new Classical that was boring and/or discordant as well, hardcore country, or cookie-cutter pop. Nope, he liked classic rock, _classical _Classical, ethnic music, and the occasional quality pop song (he would admit to belting Shakira's "Objection [Tango]" in the shower sometimes, he just switched the gender of the intended audience's beloved and the "I'm not your mother" part with "I'm not your father").

And two days later, it was time for more musical fun. Zouchouten had a friend in Tenou Prince, who played the flute and now electric guitar. Zouchouten himself, to the endless amusement of Koumokuten and Bishamonten, played the flute as well.

Ah, the flute. He'd started playing it on a whim actually, back in 1986 after Kelly had just died. Why? For something to take his mind off his grief, really, and he'd chosen that particular instrument because it was something she'd never had any opinion on at all, so he wouldn't have to deal with thoughts of, _She always liked flute,_ or, _She always hated flute._

And hey, you needed strong lungs to play a wind instrument, and he sure had strong lungs. It had been difficult at first, but he'd persevered and gotten to the point that he could play for his family without being self-conscious about it. Although boy, he'd wanted to punch Elbert when his brother made a crack about, "Of all the instruments out there, you had to pick a wimpy one."

What _was _it with people that made them think him playing the flute was so funny? Zouchouten honestly wondered this with his intimidating brows lowered, his muscular arms crossed over his barrel chest, and his head barely missing hitting the doorframe of his rec room. Honestly, it wasn't like he was playing the kazoo or something silly like that.

Oh well, Tenou had been impressed that he played the flute too, so there. Tenou knew how difficult it was, and all the work it took, and so what if he was somewhat of a pushover and not a muscle-bound macho man? He was a smart guy.

Zouchouten picked up his flute case, grabbed the coffee that he needed like air, and proceeded to drive to 2285 Royalty Drive. When he got there, he waved at Hakuryuu Waters, who was out in his yard watering the gardens. Zouchouten also liked Hakuryuu, and his family too. The business executive had shown up at their door instead of Tenou's by accident in May, and met the cats, the cousin, and the bass player Drew. They were nice and played good music, not to mention were funny to watch when they started to argue, usually Ryuu vs. Hakuryuu but not always.

Hakuryuu waved back, shirtless and wearing the headband he so loved, and called, "Hello, Aaron! How are you doing?"

"Just fine. Yourself?"

"The same. Are you here to play the flute with Tenou?" Hakuryuu asked with a smile as Zouchouten mounted Shashi's front steps. "Ask him to show you his progress on electric, he's getting much better at it. And –"

The door swung open, and Shashi snapped, "Aaron. Please come in, Tenou's in the basement." And then, in a whisper, "Don't talk to the exhibitionist. Sickening, isn't it?"

Zouchouten wanted to say, "It's kind of eighty-seven degrees out, and all that hair must make him hot. He's not ripping his shorts off or even wearing them in that stupid jailing style where you can see his boxers, nor is he posing in the spray of water. If that's an exhibitionist, my cousin Jay is too, because he also waters his garden in shorts and with his shirt off when it's boiling out."

Instead he waved goodbye to Hakuryuu and obediently stepped inside, wondering how Shashi would hassle him today. He didn't like her, and the feeling was mutual. In fact, she took it farther than he did, lording her fiancé's power over him and insulting him to his face. He himself called her nasty names in his head and to Koumokuten, who also hated her, but he never told Tenou how much he disliked his mom.

But today, she was on her way to do something with Aguni, which somehow didn't surprise him. Aguni was a bitch too, and birds of a feather stuck together. With a warning of "Don't eat any of my food," she was gone, leaving him to encounter the happy Tenou, who was wearing cargo shorts and a Def Leppard tank top.

After a period of small talk where Zouchouten placed the sheet music in its stand, and Tenou got him some lemonade and cookie bars in good-natured defiance of his mom, Zouchouten sighed, "Your mother really likes Aguni Steel-Koumokuten."

"She scares me," was Tenou's immediate reply. "Mother says she likes to light things on fire, and Mr. Koumokuten thinks that's cute and not frightening."

"He does," Zouchouten confirmed. "Love has a way of making you think some things your beloved does are intriguing and sometimes attractive. Their wedding had a fire theme: fire-colored roses, lots of songs on the playlist at the reception that referenced fire, and the decorations were all gold and orange."

"I hope that my wife doesn't want anything like that," Tenou muttered. "But if she does, I'll go along with it because I love her so much. I know she's out there, and when I meet her I hope she _knows _too."

Zouchouten cautiously asked, "So you believe in love at first sight?"

"Of course! And I know what I'm looking for too. Somebody sweet," Tenou smiled dorkily, "but also really strong, with big blue eyes and long dark hair, who'll love my musical talents and play duets with me, and likes animals like I do. Plus she'll have a sense of humor."

Zouchouten's extravagant eyebrows rose. Clearly, Tenou had spent a lot of time mentally designing his dream woman.

"And a little older than I am," the redhead continued, "because all the girls my age are so shallow and concerned with appearances and what other people think. My girlfriend would be self-confident, and unashamed of sweatpants in public instead of a short skirt."

"Uh. Well," Zouchouten managed, "I certainly hope you find someone like that someday, Tenou. Just be forewarned that even if you find your perfect mate, she may be completely uninterested," he cautioned, raining on Tenou's parade.

Tenou gave him a look of consideration and asked, "Are you speaking from experience here?"

_Oops. Bad idea. Brilliant, Aaron, giving him a giant opening like that!_

He quickly deflected further questions with a well-placed, "Oh, I've just seen human nature at work. Anyway, Tenou, which piece would you like to play? Now personally, I'd rather do 'Scarborough Fair' but it's all up to you," he said generously.

And that's what they did. Zouchouten couldn't help but think, though, that Tenou was setting himself up for heartbreak, and was going to miss out on other women who might be perfect for him just because they didn't have long dark hair, blue eyes, and musical talents.

.

As Zouchouten was thinking that, Karura was bowing to the kung fu class, Souma right beside her. Oh yes, it was time to demonstrate why they were warrior women.

Karura's kung fu class was always one of the highlights of her week. She was a black belt, and as such got to help teach those underneath her. She was a good teacher, but her favorite part of the class was whenever she got to practice her kicks.

Why? Because she could imagine people she hated on the target! Taishakuten was the most common, but she'd often imagine Koumokuten, Vahyu, and her fourth-grade bitch teacher too. The fourth-grade bitch teacher, by way of explanation, had been an older woman who'd insisted that little boys should have more leeway in misbehaving than little girls, which translated to, "Bobby Walkerson can tease you all he wants, it's just boys being boys."

Well, Karura had shown _him. _She'd challenged him to a fight, and beaten him up. Which of course had brought horrified condemnation from Mrs. Blathking, a stern talking-to from all the other adults, and mounds of praise from all the other kids.

Anyway, that was the reason her aim was so good: imagining she was kicking Taishakuten and Co. in the face. She practiced religiously, and kept having fantasies about saving Zouchouten. In those fantasies, a group of masked evildoers burst into the office, waving knives (even kung fu would do no good against a bunch of guns) and taking him hostage. She would simply slip her heels off and get medieval on their asses.

And when they were all dead or severely crippled on the floor, Zouchouten would hug her and breathe, "Ellen, you just saved my life! And when you did, I realized that I _love _you. Just let me step on the head of this one who's still reaching for his knife, and we can go sit under some flowering trees and make out."

But she was well aware that it was a silly fantasy. Leaving aside the fact that any evildoers worth their salt would have guns instead of knives, Zouchouten would probably punch, kick, body-slam, and throw his way to freedom. Well, maybe they could save the day _together_. It could be like one of those action movies where the heroine and her love interest anticipated each other's moves, and took out the villainous cannon fodder with chemistry-filled actions, then looked into each other's eyes and said –

"Ellen? Eeellleeennn! You can straighten up now," Souma's voice said, with a giggle in it.

Karura blinked, and realized that yep, she was still bowing to the snickering class. How embarrassing. Curse those flights of fancy! They'd made her look stupid, and that was something she hated almost as much as Taishakuten. Oh well, best to pretend it hadn't happened and get on with the class.

So she straightened up as the instructor, Ms. Yuan, smirked and said, "White through green belts, with Nina. Blue through purple, with Ellen. Brown, with Tulio. And red, with me."

Class went well after that gaffe. It did Karura's heart good to see the students improving, and one of them was clearly prepared for the upcoming tests to advance to brown belt already. Yay! She couldn't _wait _until she talked Karyoubinga into doing the kid class, because she'd feel so much better about letting her do things in the community without her.

Karyoubinga was availed of the Extended Day program at school, not to mention carpooling to get to and from it, and boy, had that been a hard decision to make. Karura had been so worried about leaving her little sister with other people that for a few moments, she'd considered getting a different job and working from home. That might have spurred Zouchouten to a passionate "I need you in so many ways, don't leave me!" speech, but as she'd come to grips with the fact that she couldn't constantly protect Karyou from everything, he'd missed that chance. Oh well, such was life.

Still, "Killer Karura" would be much more comfortable if her sibling knew self-defense. There were a lot of sickos out there, and while she'd coached Karyoubinga on what to do if threatened in any way, knowing how to inflict maximum pain and get away from someone holding you were things that all females should know. Heck, all _kids _should know that, period. Not that the majority of them would ever have to use it, but better safe than sorry.

And then, it was time for sparring. Souma and Karura were paired for the first bout, they often were. They were well-matched, and although Souma won maybe sixty percent of the time, Karura was still an opponent not to be messed with. After all, you didn't get the nickname "Killer Karura" if you weren't good. Souma was a bit better, but still.

And this time, Karura won the bout! Thanks to a flawless block paired with a roundhouse kick, she sent Souma flying into the wall. She of course apologized, but Souma just shook it off and laughed. She was used to this.

She grinned and complimented, "That was a wonderful kick. I'll have a bruise for weeks, but hey, it's payback for the left hook in March, right?"

"Yes, it is," Karura agreed with a slight smile, helping her up. She'd had a bruise on her collarbone for a long time, and she'd been so glad it was winter so nobody could think she was a battered woman or something. But boy, if anybody ever tried anything like that, her nickname would turn literal.

.

The very next day, Sunday, found Zouchouten making the decision that it was time to get another dog. His last one had died in February, and by now he'd worked through all the grief and was pretty damn lonely. He'd toyed with the idea of getting a new one earlier, but never felt it was really the right time. Well, now it was. He loved dogs, and cats, and hamsters, and birds, and even fish, even though fish didn't do much. But dogs were his favorite, mostly _big _dogs because they tended to be easier to train, not to mention smarter because they'd originally been bred for working or hunting and not looking cute.

He was embarrassed to admit that he'd once owned a bichon frise. Well technically, Bitzi had been Kelly's, but he'd still had to walk her and help train her. And avoid stepping on her, because one carelessly placed foot would have spelled doom for that tiny yapper. He'd been tempted to do so at first, but Kelly had had Bitzi before she married him, and he wasn't a cruel man.

He hadn't cried when Bitzi had died, but he hadn't jumped up and down with glee and yelled, "Yeeha, it's dead!" either. He'd dutifully buried the dog beneath the rose bushes, nodded solemnly as Kelly said a prayer to Saint Francis, and even gone so far as to suggest, "Honey, do you want another one?"

"No," she'd sniffled, wiping her eyes. "No one can ever hope to replace her."

He'd refrained from cheering then, too.

So now he would go with a big dog again, like he had twice before. A mixed breed, because they were healthier, and from the shelter, because paying for a boxerdoodle or any other "designer dog" was foolishness when one could pick up a boxer-poodle cross at the shelter, and save its life. So he strolled on into the Paws and Pals shelter, waited in line as a happy couple adopted a kitten, and told the volunteer when it was his turn that he was looking for a dog, "An adult dog, not an older one but definitely not a puppy, please."

"We've got lots of those," the volunteer smiled. He called over his shoulder, "Joan? Joan, can you show this guy the dogs?"

"Sure thing," a young woman grinned, coming around the desk and using some hand sanitizer. "Is there a particular breed you were looking for, sir? Right now we have purebred Goldens, Collies, Border Collies, a Rottie, and even an Afghan Hound! Although she'll take a lot of work with all that fur."

As he fell into step behind her, Zouchouten replied, "I'm looking for a mixed breed, actually, although if I fall in love with a purebred I'll take them home. But a young adult, please."

"That's the biggest category we have: mixed-breed young adults, in dogs at least," she told him as they entered a hallway filled with dog pens.

A clamor of barking went up, some of the adoptables putting their paws up against the pens in their excitement and desire to be let out. Oh man, this was almost heartbreaking, that he couldn't help them all. At least this shelter was no-kill, but it was still sad to know that some of these dogs might be here for years on end.

He considered the cages. That one was a half-grown puppy, and he had no time to train one. That one was an elderly dog, and he wanted to have a companion for years. That one was aggressive, that one was scared, that one was –

"WOOF!"

He stared at the dog that had barked. It was some sort of Labrador mix, with golden fur and pointed ears, grinning a dog grin and wagging its slender tail so hard its entire hindquarters were wiggling. It was a good-looking canine, nice teeth and sparkling eyes, and it was always so cute when dogs wagged their tails that hard. It was (he checked) a female, but all shelter dogs were spayed so he wouldn't have to deal with heat or getting her spayed himself. And she wasn't jumping up against the pen door like some of the other candidates were doing, just wagging her tail and dog-smiling.

"Can I see that one?" he asked the volunteer, who smiled as well and replied, "Sure. That's Lola. They found her wandering on the interstate with a bandana around her neck and a nail in her paw. Nobody claimed her, so she's been here for about two months. She's very sweet.

"We think," she continued as she unlocked the cage, "that she was abandoned. She's still pretty young, so her owners probably got her as a puppy and decided she grew too big."

"And they left her on the street where she might have died," Zouchouten muttered, feeling that familiar emotion of anger at people who did things like that. "They couldn't have just brought her to a shelter, oh no. Heaven forbid they be inconvenienced."

"May their heads be struck from their shoulders," the volunteer agreed almost cheerfully. "Anyway, we think she's about a year and a half. She still limps a little bit and probably always will, but other than that she's in great shape. And she's well-trained, not aggressive. Gets along well with everybody else, and boy oh boy, does she likes to play fetch."

She liked to be petted too, he saw as the volunteer brought her out. All through the walk to the interaction pen, she kept walking close to his side and rubbing against his leg, so desperate was she for some attention. Naturally he gave it to her, and a mere minute into the socialization, he could tell that this was the dog for him. She was obedient and gentle, she was sweet, and after asking some questions, he learned that she was quiet and good with kids.

Not that he had any kids, but one of his nieces soon would, and they'd come over sometimes. Well, they'd love this dog, he thought to himself as she gave him one of those adoring looks dogs often give to their people. He could tell that he'd love her, too.

"Guess what," he told her as he scratched behind her ears. "You're coming home with me."

"Urf!" she replied happily, wagging her tail some more. That tail kept wagging as he signed the paperwork and paid the fee, then made a hefty donation to the shelter as well.

When Lola was confronted with the crate in Zouchouten's backseat that she would be traveling in, there was no hesitation whatsoever. She hopped right on in, her tail making noise as it hit the sides in her excitement, and stayed nice and quiet throughout the drive home. Good! If she'd started howling that would have made this much more difficult.

When he got her home, Zouchouten showed her her kennel, the yard, and the house, and then played fetch. And the volunteer had told the truth: she _adored _fetch, must have been that Labrador Retriever in her. Plus she didn't howl or whine at night, demonstrated that she was housetrained, and basically filled that empty space of "I need a companion." She was a sweetie, and while she did limp a bit when they went jogging, she could keep up with him pretty well. They were well-matched, he thought with a fond smile and a pat to her head.

So, despite having to hum the song "Lola" a couple times per day, his life was markedly improved. She was a godsend, really, because empty mansions fueled fantasies of Karura showing up at his door and beaming, "Hello Aaron, I've decided to move in and be your lover! Just let me change into risqué lingerie and we can start to break in the different rooms."

He sighed, scratched Lola behind the ears, and forcibly turned his attention to making dinner.

.

The next Saturday night, Karura found herself getting ready for something she _really _didn't want to do, which was go out for dinner on a blind date. Souma had bullied her into doing it, and while Karura had felt like saying, "I won't hit it off with the guy, I know this for a fact because I already love someone else," she'd been worn down and finally agreed, but only to make her friend shut up.

Unbeknownst to Karura, this was all a clever plot. Souma had decided to make her see that no other man could compare to the Senior VP of Research and Development, and picked out the worst date she could so Zouchouten would look even better. After Karura had endured Ian Timberson, surely she would see that Zouchouten wanted her, and throw herself into his arms. Right?

Souma had no idea that her friend, in fact, already thought Zouchouten was the best man in the world, and forcibly restrained herself daily from throwing herself into his arms. But oh well, at least Souma was trying to help. Tough love!

Yes, Souma, like almost everybody else besides Karura, was aware of Zouchouten's interest in his assistant. Oh, he tried to hide it, but it was obvious if you knew him well and watched him all the time. Now personally, Souma thought he should confess and be done with it, but she couldn't _make _him do so.

Forty-five minutes later, at the Noir French restaurant, Karura vowed to strangle Souma. Ian was slender, pretty, had Bishamonten eyes and Vahyu-caliber hair… and she wanted to smack him across the face. He'd pulled out his phone no less than three times during dinner, overrode her preferences for the wine, insulted the waitress for something that wasn't her fault, and wouldn't shut up about his legal practice: defense lawyer for murderers. She glowered as he smoothed a stray strand of hair from his pretty face, and vowed that she would never, _ever_, let Souma set her up on a blind date again.

_I shouldn't be sitting here with you! _she yelled in her head. _I should be home helping Karyou with her homework, or working on a proposal, or…_

_Or sitting here with a man who could probably lift you with his pinky and toss you into the dessert cart, you arrogant little weasel. One who's secure enough not to wax his eyebrows like you do, and would be appalled at your treatment of that waitress._

Yes, someone like –

"Ellen?"

She whipped around as Ian trailed off, his eyes wide. And because the universe was cruel, her boss was standing there with a smiling young woman next to him, one who was model material.

She was curvy, tall, of African descent but with sparkling blue eyes. Her hair was in a chic braided knot, and she was _fun_, Karura could _tell. _She probably was the life of every party, and made clever observations that were both heartwarming and hilarious. And they probably did all sorts of fun things together, from taking long walks to seeing romantic movies to – to flying to tropical island paradises! Zouchouten wasn't holding her hand or arm, but he didn't need to, Karura lamented. Oh God, _why?_

Zouchouten gave Ian a look of consideration and immediately found him wanting, which went right over poor Karura's head. Ian gave the interloper a similar look and immediately found him intimidating. Wow, that guy had broad shoulders, and was way too tall for comfort. But ha, he wasn't nearly as sexy as Ian was!

"And you are?" he asked rudely, wondering why such a babe would be dining with such a man.

"This is my boss Aaron, Ian," Karura said, in as bright a tone as she could muster. It worked on everybody except the model material babe, who studied her, thinking.

"Hello," Zouchouten replied, a bit forcedly.

Karura, alas, thought this was merely because of Ian's rudeness. Ian himself thought it was because Zouchouten was jealous of the lawyer's stunning hotness and rapier wit. The babe thought this was telling, because Zouchouten was very good at being polite to people he hated.

He began, "Ellen, this is Marie, my –"

Before she had to hear him say "date" or "girlfriend," she desperately smiled, "How lovely to meet you."

He looked like he was about to say something else, but the waiter emitted a polite yet annoyed cough and asked, "If monsieur and madame would continue following me to their table, please?"

Marie smiled and strolled after him, and Zouchouten hurried to catch up, leaving Karura grinding her teeth and picturing a target on the back of that woman's sexy head. And horribly, their table was right in her line of sight, so she could watch their profiles as they smiled and toasted each other and had a lovely time, dammit. And then they'd hold hands and kiss, too.

"So that's your boss, huh?" Ian asked, sounding annoyed that her attention wasn't on his fabulous self. "What does he do?"

"He's the Senior Vice President of Research and Development," she responded, and was unable to help adding, "He's a wonderful man. I love working for him." By which she meant, "I want to knock Marie out and take her place, because I adore my boss and dream of being with him."

"What's with his sideburns?" Ian sneered, stroking his affected little soul patch. "My God Ellie, is that man still living in the Ice Age?"

"Ellen," she snapped, glaring daggers at him. "Not 'Ellie,' _Ellen._" She hadn't been called "Ellie" since she was five, and that had been from her great-grandmother, who thought all little girls' names should end with "-ie" or "-a."

Unaware that he was being mentally fed through a wood chipper, Ian smirked, "Ellen, then. Same question."

Karura's eyes slitted as she felt what she called her "Valkyrie" urge. That urge involved striding around in armor, slaying enemies, and protecting the weak (and Zouchouten). Yes, if only they lived in a violent fantasy world, she would stick this man's head on a pike for that, daring to profane her manly commander.

"You're just jealous of him, Ian," she snapped, with a dangerous tone to her voice.

He gave her an incredulous look, protesting, "Why would I be jealous of an old guy who looks like a lion, and could really use some eyebrow plucking?" He said it like that was a serious character flaw.

"You're jealous," she hissed, "because you're at most one-forty and he's three hundred pounds of muscle."

He shut his mouth, pouted, then managed a weak, "He'll run to fat in a few years, just you wait." It was a petulant little act of defiance, as Ian Timberson was one of those men who sent out for the weight sets advertised on TV and despaired that they never lived up to their promise.

As Karura defended him, Zouchouten frowned at Ian and muttered, "Marie, I don't like that man."

"Uncle Aaron," she laughed, "I don't think she likes him either, judging by the way she's trying to kill him with her eyes. How much you wanna bet she walks out on him?"

Zouchouten started to smile before he caught himself. "Marie, don't take enjoyment from someone else's discomfort," he chided, fighting off a vision of Karura punching Ian in the face. It was a _gorgeous _vision, and she was looking really good while beating that snake up too.

Marie gave him a "You're avoiding the issue" look, and sighed, "Whatever you say, Uncle Aaron, whatever you say."

Changing the subject, he murmured, "So you're pregnant. Does David know, and has he made any gestures of matrimony?"

Zouchouten liked David a lot, and he was of the opinion that kids should have a stable, two-parent home for the best possible life. Let's be honest here: all the studies showed that single parenthood, while it was necessary sometimes, wasn't optimal for children in the least. Now personally he thought two same-sex parents was fine, just as long as there were in fact two, duh.

"David will propose," Marie said serenely. "If he doesn't do so by this time next week, I'll ask him myself. He'll say yes. I mean, you know him, you can see how much in love we are."

"Yes, I can. Well, that's good. If he didn't, I might have had to threaten him," he joked… mostly, anyway.

Throughout the dinner, Marie couldn't help but notice that her uncle's attention often strayed to Karura. Throughout _their _dinner, Ian couldn't help but notice that Karura's attention often strayed to Zouchouten. Why was this, he wondered as she drank some water almost angrily. Didn't she have someone much more interesting right in front of her?

Marie herself, being smarter than Ian, was getting the distinct sense that Zouchouten wanted nothing more than to stride over there, pick Ian up by his collar, toss him six feet away, and bring Karura back to his table, where Marie would become the third wheel. She thought this was cute, and finally asked, "You like her a lot, huh?"

"Yes. She's a wonderful – I like her as a friend and employee," he said desperately.

Hmm, denial. She vowed to poke around at a later date, and find out how long this had been going on. Karura seemed like a strong person, and Marie was counting the minutes until she got fed up and walked out on Ian, who she kept glaring at.

Three mere minutes later, the waitress came to clear away the plates, and asked, "How was everything?"

"It was all very good, thank you," Karura smiled.

"It was sub-par," Ian snapped. "I asked for extra spices, and they didn't put on enough. Obviously, you need to either clean your ears out or pay more attention. I had to force myself to finish it," he said pompously, which made both Karura and the waitress wonder why, if it was so "sub-par."

"I did tell the chef to put on extra spices," the waitress said politely. "But I'll mention to her that you wanted more. I'm sure that –"

"See that you do. I still think you might be lying to make yourself look better, though. People like you will say anything to save their own skin. I demand a discount, actually, and if you won't give it to me I'll ask for the manager. Oh, and separate checks," he added haughtily.

"What?!" Karura couldn't keep from hissing. "You never said anything about that!"

As the waitress muttered, "Why don't I just come back later," and hightailed it away, Ian replied, "Of course we'll have separate checks. I never pay the entire thing unless I know there'll be a repeat of our date. And you don't seem like good repeat date material," he sneered.

"You're right that I don't ever want to see you again," she snarled quietly. "We're not well-matched at all, but when you said you'd be taking me out, naturally I assumed you'd be _paying_."

He smirked, "Never assume, Ellen. Now of course, I want my goodnight kiss before we leave, it's only fair."

"Never," she gritted, her eyes flashing. "You're not only rude, you're conceited, arrogant, mean, stupid, spoiled, and not nearly as attractive as you think you are. Not to mention cheap, trying to get a discount for something you ate all of without complaining about until you were done. You're an awful man, Ian Timberson."

"Well at least I'm not your big, dumb boss, who wins the prize for 'Stupidest Facial Hair in the World,' " he taunted, quietly so Zouchouten couldn't hear, although he was watching with a pained expression.

Karura picked up her almost-full glass of wine that she'd hated, and matter-of-factly hurled it into Ian's face. Take that, fucker! Nobody insulted Aaron Zouchouten when Ellen Karura was around, and had been put through the worst dinner date she'd ever been on. As Ian sputtered and tried to get the wine off of his face with a napkin, she grabbed her purse and walked off. He could pay the bill! He deserved to, especially after trying to make her pay for her meal and demanding a kiss anyway.

Zouchouten watched her go, sighed, and turned back to his niece with an apologetic, "She's usually quite collected, Marie. She must be under a lot of stress at home," he thought aloud, having not the faintest inkling of Karura's inspiration for throwing the wine and walking out.

Marie shrugged, then smirked as Ian's eyes bugged out at the bill that the grinning waitress had just handed him. "Well I like her," she proclaimed with a grin.

.

"Sister," Karyoubinga asked the next morning, "did your date not go well?"

Karura was stomping around, and Karyoubinga was pretty sure that she'd heard some muffled adult language late last night. Karura was glaring at the wall like it was at fault for something, and she'd made pancake batter with violent motions that had spilled some onto the counter.

"No, it did _not_ go well at _all_," she hissed, flipping a pancake so violently Karyoubinga cringed. "I'm never going on a date again."

The little girl considered how to respond to this. Should she pry and risk getting her sister mad? Should she pretend to be stupid and change the subject? Should she pretend she hadn't heard it and say something like, "Boy, am I hungry"? Or maybe, just maybe, she should instead say something like…

"_Ever _again?" she asked, in as innocent a tone as she could muster (which was very innocent indeed). "What if Aaron asked you out? Would that be enough to get you to agree to go on another date?"

Karura started and dropped the spatula, which narrowly missed going onto the floor. She whipped around, her mouth wide open, and choked out, "What did you say?!"

Karyoubinga gave her a wide-eyed, cherubic smile, and replied, "I said, 'What if Aaron asked you –?' "

"Karyou," Karura almost howled, "where in the world did you get the idea that I want my boss to ask me out?!" She was in "deny everything" mode, Karyoubinga realized with a sigh. Uh-oh.

_Maybe I should have changed the subject after all, _she thought, with 20/20 hindsight. But now it was time to play the honesty card, so she pointed out, "Sister, you obviously like him an awful, awful lot, and you talk about him all the time –"

"Because he's my boss, and he's nice!" Karura protested at the top of her lungs.

"And when he sent me those flowers you lit up when you saw who they were from, then your face fell when you saw they were for me," Karyoubinga continued serenely. "I saw it, you were disappointed. _Really _disappointed."

"No I wasn't!"

"Yes you were. And when we met him at the office you kept watching him when I was singing, and Ellen… you said you make him coffee, and you _hate _making coffee."

"I make him coffee because it's my job!" Karura snapped, which was only half-true. Years ago Zouchouten had mentioned that he disliked store-bought coffee, and hero-worshipping Karura had hit on that as a way to impress him. Nowadays she endeavored to make the best coffee in the universe, as a demonstration of her affections.

"You're in love with him," Karyoubinga said firmly. "I know you are, because I stole your notebook of 'Platonic Relationship Self-Talk' and read it. I had to wonder what a nymphomaniac is and why one of your mantras is 'Do not rip clothes off and tackle him,' but maybe it's one of those things you'll tell me when I'm older. Ellen, don't lie anymore, I know the truth."

Karura stared for a moment, then sagged and lamented, "But he doesn't love _me!_ Karyou, last night he was at the same restaurant, with a sexy woman who makes clever observations on life that are heartwarming and hilarious. I could _tell!_"

"That's bad," her little sister seriously replied. "So what you have to do is – is be cleverer, funnier, more heartwarming, and sexier!" She said this like that would automatically make any man dump his girlfriend and go for you instead.

"No, if I do that he might fire me," Karura muttered, having no idea that he would do nothing of the sort. "I mean, he's my boss, it's really not good to be in love with your boss in the first place."

"I don't know _why_," Karyoubinga sniffed. "If you work so closely, and he's such a nice guy, and he obviously likes you, and you have fun together, why is it so bad to be in love with him?"

"Favoritism, Karyou. Bosses in love with employees often give those employees promotions and raises other people might have earned, just because they like them so much. I don't think _he'd _do that, but that's a basic business rule: you can't work with the person you love," Karura explained.

Karyoubinga had to admit that that made sense, but couldn't stop herself from adding, "But maybe you could keep it a secret! Or you could transfer if you two were a couple."

"We're forgetting the fact that he has a girlfriend," Karura said stiffly. "I mean, it makes sense that he would, his poor wife died almost thirty years ago. He probably figured that he's been lonely long enough, and Marie _was _nice and attractive too. I just hate her because she has him."

When she walked into work the next day, she took the bull by the horns and asked Zouchouten, "So how long have you known Marie?"

"Ellen," he said rather desperately, "before you get any erroneous ideas, I have to tell you that Marie is my _niece._"

Karura felt like singing with joy, or at least saying fervently, "Oh _good_," but held herself back. Instead, she smiled as normally as she could and replied, "Oh. She seems like a lovely person. Is she, by any chance, the pregnant one?"

"Yes, she is. I was taking her out in celebration, and hopefully you noticed how she didn't drink any wine. She's going to be a very responsible mother," he smiled, a bit disappointed that his assistant hadn't yelled, "Yay, that means you're available! Let's go out to Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette, and stare into each other's eyes."

And then, he had a great idea. Why not do something with Karura this weekend, something that would _look _platonic but really wouldn't be? Something like – oh! Something like hiking, he loved hiking, and she'd mentioned that she liked it too. Excellent, they could go hiking and he could bring Lola, and have Karura meet his wonderful dog.

So he said, as innocently as he could, "Ellen, I was thinking of going hiking this Saturday. I know you said you like to be outside, and you've hiked some pretty hard trails. Would you like to come with me?"

The notebook mentally reminded her, "Just because he might ask you to do something with him, it doesn't mean he wants you. Let him down gently so temptation doesn't make you do something stupid, and make sure to thank him for his kind offer."

So she replied, "Oh Aaron, I don't know, I mean –"

"Reginald's coming too," he said quickly, having just decided that he'd invite Bishamonten to make her more comfortable. "And Xavier's not."

It was more Koumokuten's absence than Bishamonten's presence that convinced Karura that this might be acceptable. Yes she'd have to read the notebook beforehand and try not to stare at Zouchouten's arms if he wore a t-shirt, but if she turned him down now she'd hurt his feelings. Poor guy was probably still lonely, without the girlfriend she'd thought he had.

"Well sure, that sounds fun," she smiled, unaware that he was plotting to ditch Bishamonten halfway through. "How long of a hike? If it's short, can I bring Karyou too? She loves hiking."

He'd been about to say, "Not far, just seven miles," but the possible addition of Karyoubinga made him reconsider the location. The Southern Valley trail was out for a seven-year-old, with its gorges and switchbacks, but –

"The Happy River trail is about four miles, roundtrip," he informed her, "and it's mostly flat except for the beginning and end. Do you think she can handle it?" _And it has lovely wildflowers, and little benches for two, and so many butterflies it's almost sickening._

"Yes I do," she said blithely. "We can always rest for a bit. Should I bring a bag lunch?"

A sudden, very detailed vision arose in his mind's eye then: the two of them seated on a picnic blanket, sharing sandwiches and smiling, while Karyoubinga chased one of the sickening butterflies. Right about then, however, Bishamonten popped around a tree and ordered, "Aaron, stop smiling. I'm in a bad mood so I'll take it out on you, because you can't be happy if I'm not." Then he swatted a monarch, just to drive his bastardliness home.

"Aaron? Aaron, should I bring a bag lunch?" Karura asked a bit hesitantly, staring at the glower on his face in response to Bishamonten the butterfly murderer and ruiner of precious moments.

"Um, yes. Yes, bring a bag lunch, and I'll bring some trail mix and granola bars in the backpack," he hastily replied. "Is she allergic to anything, like peanuts or almonds or something?"

"No, thankfully not. She actually likes nuts a lot," Karura revealed, proud of her young kin for having healthy tastes. "I've also lucked out that she's not very picky, unlike a lot of kids. I mean, when I was seven, I wouldn't eat anything that didn't have cheese on it. Thankfully I've grown out of that."

"I was a ketchup fiend," Zouchouten remembered with a rueful smile. "I put it on everything from potato chips to sandwiches to macaroni. But at least that meant I ate whatever it was. Anyway, Ellen, she told me she likes animals, so I'd like to bring Lola."

"She'd _love _that," Karura enthused. "I'd like to meet her too, she sounds so sweet. So, when should we go, and should we all meet there?"

"That makes the most sense, I think. Does eleven work for you? I'll check with Reginald, but with Kisshouten gone I think he'll be fine with that time," he told her, vowing to threaten Bishamonten into this if he tried to say "no." Sure he'd be ditched halfway through, but being out in nature would be good for him.

There was one little problem, however: Zouchouten was trying to quit coffee, and thus dealt with caffeine-withdrawal headaches, which wasn't optimal for hiking. Well, maybe he would bring a single, tiny can of soda to relieve that pain for a little while. Yes, he would _definitely _do that.

.

And so, that Saturday, Zouchouten found himself waiting in the Happy River Regional Park parking lot for Karura and Karyoubinga, with Lola at his side and Bishamonten glaring at a happy young couple. Zouchouten decided to take his mind off romantic woes, and smiled, "Reginald, isn't this a glorious day?"

It was. This was in the morning so it wasn't so hot, the sun was out but there were just enough clouds to provide some intermittent shade, and the butterflies were out in full force. Up in the sky he saw two raptors, and over there on one of the fallen trees he saw a chipmunk, awww.

Bishamonten glared at the chipmunk now, and shortly replied, "Yes, it's very nice."

Lola caught sight of the chipmunk then, and whined in excitement. She gave her owner a "Can I chase it?" pleading look, but made no move to try to pull him over to the little woodland rodent. Wow, had he lucked out with this dog or what? His last dog, Blackie, had been an uphill struggle to train not to take off after prey, friends, potential friends, and intriguing dead things on the ground.

"Good girl, Lola," he praised, patting her on the head. "Reginald, see how obedient she is? This dog is the perfect pet."

"No, my guinea pig is the perfect pet," Bishamonten smirked. "Puffball is friendly, cuddly, loves attention, and here's the best thing: does his business mostly in his cage, so I didn't have to spend all my time picking up after him. I hope he's doing well in Toronto with Kisshouten," he sighed wearily.

Whoops, bad move again. Zouchouten called himself a nasty name in his head for bringing wonderful pets up, because he knew how much his friend loved the guinea pig he'd gotten Kisshouten. She'd taken Puffball with her when she'd left, which had added to the deprivation, and Zouchouten didn't know this, but every time Bishamonten talked to his wife he asked how their piggy was doing.

But before more angst could ensue, Karura pulled up in the parking lot. Practically the second the car was turned off, Karyoubinga threw the door open and squealed, "A dog! She's so pretty, Aaron! Does –?"

She caught sight of Bishamonten then and flushed a bit, meekly asking, "Are you Mr. Bishamonten?"

"Yes, I'm Reginald Bishamonten," he confirmed with a smile. "You must be Karyoubinga, how lovely to meet you. Aaron says that you sing better than Xavier's daughter Tamara."

"She does," Zouchouten declared, as Karura hefted her backpack and came over to meet Lola. "We should have them compete sometime, and Xavier will blow a blood vessel when Karyou outsings Tamara. Wouldn't that be great, Reginald? We'll have finally found a way to negate all the bragging," he fantasized, and Bishamonten grinned in agreement.

After a period of introductions, in which Lola was much adored and Karyoubinga held herself back from saying to Bishamonten, "Ellen says you're a snotty control freak," the group began the hike. It wasn't a paved trail, but it was nice and easy. Butterflies fluttered, birds sang, chipmunks scurried, flowers bloomed, and if this wasn't the perfect setting for some romance, Zouchouten didn't know what was.

He counted out fifteen minutes, made easier by Karyoubinga's slow pace. Good, Bishamonten was probably champing at the bit to get where they were going, because that was just the kind of guy he was. So he could go ahead, and then Zouchouten could say something to Karura such as, "Ellen, a day like this makes me so glad I could share it with _you_."

"Reginald," he said as casually as he could as they rounded a bend, "if you'd like to go ahead and not have to wait for us, that's fine with me."

Bishamonten dashed his hopes with a cheery, "Oh no, this pace is just perfect. Nice and relaxing. You know, Aaron, I was skeptical that this would be fun, but it certainly is. Much more enjoyable than bowling," he muttered, recalling Zouchouten's overkill triumph at the lanes, and the way Tenou had cheered him on.

Drat. Oh well, Zouchouten could take some time to reflect on things, such as the fact that hiding his feelings for Karura was starting to feel a bit useless. Bishamonten knew about it, Koumokuten knew about it, and if Bishamonten knew so did Taishakuten, who strangely enough hadn't said a word about the subject. Maybe he was playing things close to the vest for reasons of his own? Something like, "If you ever fail me, I'll fire you for your desire for your assistant"?

Oh, this unrequited romance stuff was hard, Zouchouten muttered inside his head as he nodded at a passing jogger. He and Kelly had been mutually attracted from Day One, ever since they'd met in the Urgent Care waiting room (it was a long story, one that involved skateboards, Elbert, and beer on Zouchouten's part, and an iron, a sudden phone call, and trying to do too many things at once on Kelly's part). Heck, they'd literally shouted their engagement from a rooftop, making passerby grin.

When she'd died three years after their wedding, in a car crash while he was at work, he'd thought he'd never love again. He'd coped well, but for twenty years he turned down friends trying to fix him up with blind dates and any women who asked him out. He'd almost hidden his wife's memory from the outside world, really; he had no pictures of her on his desk, had never mentioned her to Koumokuten or Bishamonten until this year, and had only told Karura what had happened on the anniversary of Kelly's death two years ago.

He'd been moping a bit, he always did on May 3rd, and she'd asked him what was wrong. He'd explained the whole thing, to her great surprise, which had resulted in a solemn, "If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here, you know."

He hadn't taken her up on that offer, but maybe next year he would. He missed his wife, because Kelly had been sweet, kind, cuter than should be possible, and incredibly in love with him. She would probably have scolded him for being lonely for so long, and if there were indeed an afterlife and she was watching him want Karura, she would approve of her, he thought with a fond smile. In fact, she would grin and say, "So go after her, Aaron. Don't hide it."

His smile fell off his face. Yes, go after her, like she was a prize and he could stick her on a shelf and brag, "Look what _I've _got!" No, Karura would glare in outrage if he tried to coddle her and hold her up as a cliché, the fragile female protected by the strong male.

And she was by no means fragile, and that was why he liked her. Kelly had been fragile, and he had to admit that he rather preferred Karura's strength. After all, Kelly hadn't even worked once they'd gotten married.

He looked over at Karura, who was smiling as a blue butterfly landed on her upraised hand. That was an award-winning photo right there, and he suddenly wished he were one of those people who carried nice cameras around with them whenever they went out in nature. Well, he had his smartphone, but pulling it out might make her uncomfortable. After all, he tended not to snap pictures all the time, in fact hardly ever did, and she'd wonder what he was up to. So instead he burned the image into memory, and did so again when a pair of swallowtails landed on her head at lunchtime, while he drank his much-needed soda. And again when Karyoubinga had three butterflies on her person, one on each shoulder and on her upper arm.

And when a monarch landed on the sandwich Bishamonten was about to take a bite of, they all snickered as the head of Expansion muttered, "Oh wonderful, it's ruined my food. I have no idea where it's been."

"It's probably fine," Zouchouten assured him as he shook the sandwich and the affronted monarch flew off. "They –"

"The dog can have my sandwich," Bishamonten said grumpily, holding it out to Lola. She was okay with that! She snatched the turkey treat out of his hand and wolfed it down before Zouchouten could say, "No, I don't want her getting used to people food!" Oh well, such was life.

But for the loss of Bishamonten's sustenance, the hike was great. When they made it back to the parking lot an hour later, Karyoubinga chirped, "This was really fun! Can we do it again sometime, sister?"

"I say 'yes,' " Karura smiled. "Aaron, Reginald, what about you?"

"Most certainly," was Bishamonten's response. "It's nice to get out in nature sometimes. I'm sure Aaron's not going to turn down hiking with you," he said encouragingly, giving Zouchouten a "Go for it" look that both Karura and Karyoubinga missed.

"We can definitely do this again," Zouchouten agreed, sending Bishamonten a "Leave me alone" glance in return. "And come spring we should all plan a longer hike, I think. Maybe down by one of the lakes, or up in the hills by the waterfalls, those are always something to behold in the spring."

Once everybody got back into their cars, Zouchouten mentally added, _And then, I __will__ ditch Reginald for sure._

.

That Wednesday, Zouchouten found himself grouchy, and calling Shashi all sorts of horrible names in his mind.

She had hit a golf ball into his office just yesterday, and he was _mad_. Hadn't he been polite to the gold-digging siren? Well, he'd blown up at her then, and only Karura's intervention had prevented things from getting ugly. As it was, Shashi had apologized only for making him upset, not her actions. That was just how she was, and he had to agree with Koumokuten's nicknames for her, "Bitch Doctor" and "Queen Shashi."

He sucked down more coffee, having failed in yet another attempt to quit it thanks to her. Well, too bad! It was his comfort drink, and it drove off the headaches. Without it he was much more irritable, and he was irritable enough already.

The worst part? He'd tried to get Taishakuten to rein his fiancée in, but the CEO had merely told him to stop complaining. He'd smirked, "Aaron, you're overreacting. Suck it up and deal, don't bother me with your whining anymore. Are you really that much of an overgrown child that you have to tattle to me?"

Zouchouten had thought about saying, "_I _am not the childish one, _she _is. And I asked you to help me because you're the one who can make her behave, not me. I told her in no uncertain terms that she was out of line, and she laughed it off. Sir, this is bad for business."

Instead, he'd swallowed down his fury and said nothing else. He did, however, envision Taishakuten and Shashi getting into a plane crash on their honeymoon, one that neither of them would survive.

Now, he returned his attention to the present. He and Karura were in his office, standing in the middle of the floor as he glared out the windows behind his desk. They were discussing a new laptop, one that had just been run past Marketing to see what they thought could be improved, or what they liked, and what they had for a slogan so far.

"Mr. Koumokuten says the display for Open Office and Word uses too much white," she sighed. "Even though we have the bars of grey, plus all the icons on the toolbars, he says, and I quote, 'Looks like a blizzard on that screen. It needs more graphics.' "

"I _like _white," Zouchouten snapped, staring at her hair. "White's the most beautiful color in the world, dammit, and a black-obsessed idiot like him –"

He became suddenly aware that he had reached a hand up to stroke her hair. He hadn't touched her, but she was staring at his hand in what looked like bewilderment. Then she looked at his face, very curiously indeed.

He was going to do something dumb, logic informed him. This really was not a smart thing to do, and goodness, was she, maybe, leaning a tiny bit closer?

_SLAM! _

"Hey Aaron! Guess who – oh."

He dropped his hand quickly and turned, so slowly someone giggled in the background. Kujaku was standing in the open door, wearing an intrigued look, while various workers peered over his shoulder.

Karura quickly asked, "Did you need something, Victor?" in as normal a voice as she could. Oh God, the notebook had failed her! She hadn't even thought of any of her mantras, such as "Do not invade his personal space" or "Smile, step away, and think of business topics."

Kujaku replied, "I was just here to tell Aaron I wrote a poem about Xavier and Aguni, called 'Pyro and Slave-Driving Jerk.' Did I interrupt something?"

As Zouchouten was facing away, he was unable to observe Karura's expression of disappointed, frustrated longing. But luckily for the two of them, Kujaku saw it plain as day, and the gears in his eccentric head started to kick into high gear. Aha… so his suspicions were correct, and Karura did, in fact, desire her boss!

Yasha didn't believe it, but Kujaku could _see _it. In fact, he made a mental note to make a bet with his partner that she'd been in love with Zouchouten for years, and get something out of it. Because Victor Kujaku was on the job, and he was about to play Cupid, minus the diaper and cutesy wings that would never actually lift a human being. So he smiled, innocent as could be, and farewelled, "Well, I'll show it to you later. Bye now!"

A he turned to go, Karura said almost desperately, "I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back," and followed him out without waiting for Zouchouten's answer. She was going to have to pull the notebook out in there and maybe recite a few things under her breath, before something happened.

Zouchouten stared at the door after it had closed behind her, then turned and stared out the window. He would really have much preferred running after her and pleading, "Wait, I want to kiss you like I was going to! Don't go!"

But no. So he went on with his work, unaware that Kujaku was soon making a bet with Sandra, fifteen minutes later.

"I bet you a favor he'll ask for coffee in less than a minute. C'mon, I _bet _you," he urged with a winning smile. "What, you don't want a favor from me? Is that it, Sandra? I could write a poem for your son, or something."

"You're on," she smirked. "Prepare to lose, Victor, because he just had coffee half an hour ago, a big thermos. Now when I win, I want you to write a humorous limerick about picking up Kyle's room. He never picks up his room, and maybe you can work in how kids with messy rooms run the risk of having monsters live in their closets."

Kujaku was about to say, "Well sure, I'm down with scaring impressionable children!" when Zouchouten's voice came over the intercom: "Ellen? Ellen, can I have some more coffee please?"

Kujaku smirked triumphantly, Sandra snapped her fingers and muttered, "Damn," and Karura, who had just come back from the ladies' room, nodded and crossed to the coffeepot that was a requirement for this office. As she measured out espresso, Kujaku casually said, "I'll be back at one, to collect my favor to be named at that time. Adiós!"

And at one o'clock, as Zouchouten and Karura were in a meeting, he popped in the door and demanded, "I want Aaron's laptop. I won fair and square, and that's my prize! It's in his office, so all you have to do is unlock that door, and I'll have it back to him by the time that meeting ends, at three-thirty if I'm correct."

"I can't give you that!" Sandra protested. "Why do you even want it, anyway?"

"To dramatically improve his life," Kujaku grinned in reply. "See Sandra, I have the sneaking suspicion he hides some sort of incriminating evidence that he loves Ellen on there. All we have to do is find that information, and then we can wave it in her face! Because I _know _she loves him too, I saw it, and once we give him the push he'll confess it all and they'll be happy forevermore."

She gaped at him for a moment, and then weakly protested, "She doesn't love him, Victor. She –"

"I will bet you my entire year's paycheck she does," Kujaku insisted. "That's how convinced I am. Now honor our bet, or I'm gonna have to tell your husband about the way you stare at James's ass."

She hastily replied, "Let me just get the key. But if he gets mad, I'm insisting on _you _taking full responsibility!"

"And I will," he promised her as she opened the door. "They'll thank me for this later, I know they will. All I have to do is guess his login password, and I'm home free, hopefully. If not, I'm sure I can guess the other ones too," he predicted, as he grabbed the laptop sitting on the desk.

He stuck it into the carrying case he'd brought with him, bore it back to his office, and set it on the desk. Yasha and Bishamonten were engrossed in a phone conference, so this was the perfect setting to break into a man's personal computer. Kujaku vowed to tell Yasha at a later date what a genius super-spy he was in love with, and perhaps suggest that they play "Sexy Stoic Villain and Studly Irreverent Spy Caught in the Fortress" sometime, that sounded like fun.

Yup, this thing needed a password, big surprise. Kujaku thought hard about what it might be, and tried them as he did. "Wrkpsswrd"? Nope. "RandDgod'? Nope. "GeneralZchtn"? Nope. "IadoreEllen"? Nope. "Coffee"? Also nope. Hmm, the man was wilier than Kujaku had thought. But that was okay, because challenges were fun opportunities to stretch yourself! And he was dead certain he'd figure it out eventually.

But after fifteen minutes, and after the laptop locking itself a number of times because of all the bad attempts, he still had nothing. So what about – what had Zouchouten's dead wife's name been?

Kujaku was one of the few people besides Karura who knew that Zouchouten was a widower. He'd once let it slip that he'd been married and his wife had died, and now Kujaku tried to recall if he'd said her name. He had, the secretary just couldn't recall it right now, damn.

It was something that started with "C" or "K". "Catherine" or "Katherine"? No, not those. "Kim"? Also no. Or "Carol" or "Cindy" or "Katie" or "Kelly"? No, no, no –

And yes! Yes, "Kelly"!

Kujaku punched his fists in the air and spun around in his chair, then got down to business. Now, what he was looking for probably wasn't in the "Business," "Pictures," or "Downloads" folders, but the one titled "Personal" was the place to start. And there, halfway down the list of subfolders, between "Dog Vet Info" and "Financial," was a folder simply labeled "Ellen."

And ha, no password for this! Kujaku had the distinct sense that there were passwords for a lot of other things, for example "Financial", but "Ellen" opened right on up. And it held no less than eighty-seven Word documents, with titles that made him repeat his victory moves: "Love Letter One," "Love Letter Two," etc. A less nosy man might have simply sent these on to Karura and respected Zouchouten's privacy, but uh-uh, Kujaku wasn't one of those. He gleefully clicked a random one, which was Love Letter Nine, and avidly read what appeared onscreen.

Whoa, Zouchouten was a smooth talker! He called Karura "the one I long to have at my side, and with that, my life will be complete," mentioned that he loved her so much that "I cannot bear seeing you upset, and I want to kiss your tears away," and even went so far as to proclaim, "If you were ever in danger, I would lay my life down for you with nary a regret." Plus he'd "always endeavor to protect you from the cruelty of your enemies, no matter who they might be."

Kujaku was tempted to copy all this to his handy-dandy flash drive, and read them at his leisure. Especially the one about, "I long for us to be together, in every sense of the phrase. I would be gentle, so gentle you would marvel at it. I would worship you as you deserve to be worshipped, and just so you know, I wanted to emasculate Mark for hurting you."

Maybe later. For now, he had to convert these to emails and send them to Karura's home computer, wasn't he brilliant? She'd check her email, and then there would be a boatload of love letters from Zouchouten's email, yay!

And that was just what he did. Ha-ha, he could picture her reaction: she'd be drinking some juice or something, and she'd spray it all over the screen when she saw these in her inbox. She'd frantically open them, and read them with her face centimeters from the screen, her lips moving as she read because she'd be so surprised.

But no, when she sat down at nine in the evening to check her email, she wasn't drinking juice. She was even in her pants and blouse from work, the jacket and heels having long been slipped off.

Oh look, more stupid promotional emails. She hated how every store around demanded your email for their "frequent buyer" card, which you had to have to get the discounts, nine times out of ten. Yes sometimes it was useful, but she didn't go shopping at some stores every fricking week like some people did. Into the recycle bin they went, along with the offers from companies and people she'd never heard of before. Maybe it was time to get a new spam-blocking –

And then she blinked in surprise. There were a ton of emails from her boss! She downright gasped when she looked at the titles: "Love Letter (number)," and she scrolled down in a daze to see, at the end, "Love Letter Eighty-Seven."

Her heart pounding, she shakily scrolled back up and clicked on Love Letter One, firmly reminding herself that maybe he'd meant to send these to someone else, not her. But that notion was laid to rest as she read the opening line, which was, "My dearest Ellen, I've come to realize that I love you."

Now she simply stared, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. Was this one of those dreams that you could swear were real, until you woke up and you were in bed? Well, if it were, she was loath to pinch herself and wake up. Maybe if she read them all, he'd show up wearing only a pair of boxers and beam, "I see you read my letters! Any response?"

And hey, if this were a realistic dream, that would translate to really good dream sex. So she nodded firmly to herself, and continued reading.

"I know you were hurt when Mark cheated on you. But _I _would never cheat on you, not in a million years. You're a wonderful woman, and while your father would beat me to a pulp for saying this, I so very desperately want you to be mine, in every way."

Hmm, Dream Zouchouten had obviously been writing these for a while. She'd broken up with Mark in 2008! Well, she'd been pining for a while too, since 2010, and she'd been attracted to him since 2009. Oh, if only these were real, she could then interpret all those kind gestures and compliments as desire. She read that letter through, and really, _really _wished this weren't a dream. If only –

"Sister? Sister, the toilet keeps running in the upstairs bathroom," Karyoubinga's voice came from behind her. "I flushed it two whole minutes ago and it's still going!"

"Dream Karyou, be quiet," Karura snapped, opening another. "I'm reading Dream Aaron's emails. He says he wants to show me love like I've never known it before."

Karyoubinga gaped for a moment, and then yelled, "YAY! He loves you back! This isn't a dream at all, sister. Would a dream have utility problems in it? I promise, this is real, and you didn't go to bed yet so how can you think you're asleep?" she pointed out, in that "duh" tone that little kids are so good at.

Karura whipped around, doing her best impression of a fish out of water, and croaked, "You're right. I'm still wearing my pants and work shirt. So this is – this is actually happening."

"Yup. But the toilet is still running," her little sister said firmly. "You're so big on not wasting water, I thought you should know and take care of it."

Despite wanting to say, "Screw the toilet," Karura got up and sighed, "It's probably the chain, sometimes it gets twisted and doesn't shut the valve. But Karyou… Karyou, Aaron loves me! He really, honestly, truly, veritably and seriously is in love with me. Do you know what this _means?_"

"That you can live happily ever after?" Karyoubinga tried, as Karura pounded up the stairs in her haste to fix that stupid toilet and get back to the love letters. Karyoubinga jogged to catch up, and Karura replied, "I hope so. God, do I hope so. Unless this is all an elaborate prank, but they were sent from his account so probably not."

After fixing the chain, washing her hands, and telling Karyoubinga, "I'll tell you the highlights tomorrow, you need to go to bed," she ran back downstairs and continued reading, her heart pounding in her chest and a face-breaking grin on her visage. And this one began, "My beloved Ellen, I see you when I close my eyes at night. I see you when I daydream too, because you're so captivating.

"You are, without a doubt, the single most beautiful woman I have ever met. Your eyes haunt my dreams, bluer than the sky on a sunny day. Your hair makes me want to run my fingers through those silky strands of white. Your nose isn't a cute little button, but an elegant plane that fits your face so perfectly."

Karura's bluer-than-the-sky eyes widened again, and she put a hand to her hair unconsciously. Hey yeah, it _was _silky! She'd known that but never really cared too much before. And her nose… here she'd thought men liked cute little button noses over regular noses. Not this one, apparently. She continued reading:

"Your lips draw me in, pink and well-formed. I long to touch them, to feel them against mine, to hear them whisper the words 'I love you.'

"Your form is exceptional. Slender yet with womanly curves, elegant yet strong, I know you're strong. And your skin… so pale, almost white like the moon, flawless and smooth. Like I said, you're the most beautiful woman in the world. But Ellen, if you were a scarred, blinded, bald, quadruple amputee, I would want you just as much. Because your soul is what I can't live without anymore, and I am so in love with you that if you told me to, I would resign and move to Alaska to live in a fishing shack if you came with me."

_Me too, Aaron! I'd pack up Karyou and learn all about Arctic living, and while I'd miss the birds I'd have __you__,_ she thought in fervent longing.

She read that letter to the end, then another, and two more, and three others, then four more after that, and so on and so forth. Finally, on the thirtieth letter, she read something that nearly made her fall over in happy shock:

"I want to live with you. I want to _marry _you. Yes, I have no more use for subtlety. I _love _you, so much it breaks my heart every time you brush me off."

"I want to marry you too!" she nearly yelled, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Whoopsie, best not to wake Karyoubinga up. She kept on reading, as he complimented her intelligence, her personality, the way she walked, the clothes she wore, and her strength.

"You are a modern-day warrior queen. If you weren't an executive assistant, I could see you as a brilliant military officer, or a brave policewoman, performing daring deeds for the good of society. You don't take any guff from anyone, and I have to say that if you ever blow up at Taishakuten, I'm going to have to take your side, that's how much I love you," Love Letter Thirty informed her.

After she'd finished Love Letter Forty-One, she sat back and stared at the screen. How had she _missed _all this? Or had she been so convinced he didn't think of her that way that she'd ignored clear signs she would have otherwise picked up on? Whatever it was, though, she would have to throw herself into his arms the next time she saw him.

She made herself go to bed, because being up all night and having to work the next day was a recipe for disaster. She cheated and took a sleeping pill, because otherwise she would have never gotten to sleep. She had sweet dreams of weddings bells, castles in the sky where they lived happily ever after together, and a posse of little Zouchouten/Karura-cross moppets gamboling about and saying things like, "Mommy, I wuv you!" All in all, love overload.

.

She woke up early, at five o'clock, and hastily got out of bed to finish reading those letters. Breakfast was a granola bar and a Starbucks frappuccino drink (wasn't it great that they bottled those for retail?), and she forgot her vitamins she was so eager to learn what else Zouchouten had to say.

When Karyoubinga popped her head in to say, "Ellen, the carpool's here. Have a good day and don't be late, okay?" Karura merely waved and kept reading, chugging her frappuccino and for once in her life ignoring her little sister. Karyoubinga sighed, waved back, and went to school while hoping that Karura wouldn't be late to work.

Her smartphone rang at eight-thirty, and she ignored it. Her landline rang at eight-thirty-two, and she ignored that one as well. It went quietly to the answering machine; she had opted for that because of their Great-Uncle Tom, who tended to ramble on and on and on whenever he left a message, and talked even more if she picked the phone up.

Finally she had finished Love Letter Eighty-Seven, and hugged herself in joy, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pajamas. She should probably go get ready for work, surely she still had time to make it. It was only seven-thirty, right?

She looked up at the clock, and emitted a curse word. It was ten-seventeen! She was late to work by over two hours, and she suddenly realized with horrible guilt that she hadn't called in. She now had a feeling she knew who those calls had been from, and wished that her answering machine was on the setting that let you hear messages as they came in. Stupid Great-Uncle Tom, this was all his fault.

So she checked her smartphone, and yes, it had been Zouchouten. A worried tone in his voice, he'd said, "Ellen? This is Aaron. Are you okay? You're half an hour late, and you didn't call in. I hope you're all right and that I'm just overreacting, but if something happened, please call me back as soon as you can. I'm going to call your home phone too, by the way."

And on her landline, "Ellen? Aaron again. I sure hope you're all right and just encountered some unexpected traffic, but you didn't even call. Um, I'm going to have to be unavailable because of that briefing, and then I have that big meeting with Harold after that, but I'll keep my phone on so you can at least leave a message. Well… bye."

She didn't waste any time, and quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face, got dressed, and fixed her hair. She wasted no time on calling him back, either. For her own confession of love, the phone would just not do. Face-to-face was the only way, and the sooner the better. So, forgetting her driver's license, Ellen Karura broke the speed limit in the worst way as she drove like a maniac to work.

She burst into the lobby, and security managed only a "Ms. Karura, what –?" before she hurtled past, swiped her key card, and ran towards the elevator. She slammed the doors shut on a visiting Japanese CEO, snapped, "Take the next one," to anyone else who tried to join her, and downright shoved the doors open on the forty-ninth floor.

Various employees looked up in shocked surprise at her sudden appearance, barking, "Where's Aaron?!" and looking no doubt crazed. In unison, cubicle dwellers chorused, "Mr. Kumaraten's office," and gaped slack-jawed as she sprinted back to the elevators.

This time, she got an elevator car with someone else, then two someone elses, then three… damn it! Didn't these people _realize _that she was on a mission? Why didn't they all get out at the next stop, and she could repeat her earlier ploy to get where she was going faster?

Finally the elevator stopped on Floor Twenty-Five, and she ran out, pounding down the halls in her heels. Past an office drone, past a secretary, into the main workspace, and over to the door that was between her and her goal. This was Harold Kumaraten's office, containing Aaron Zouchouten if those people had been telling the truth. Yes, that door hid the manly man with the sideburns, the one who was more eloquent than she'd ever imagined and more romantic too, and all she had to do was tell him she returned his feelings.

So she yanked the engineer's door open, practically off its hinges, to see a smiling Kumaraten handing Zouchouten a file, Zouchouten looking rather grouchy. They stared at Karura, startled to see her burst in like that, and she glared at Kumaraten and ordered, "Out."

As Zouchouten's expression changed to one of utter confusion, Kumaraten snarled, "You can't just –"

"Watch me," she said matter-of-factly, striding over, yanking his arm, pulling him with her to the door, and shoving him none too gently through it as Zouchouten tried, "Ellen, what's going on?"

She slammed the door shut and locked it, telling him, "We need to talk. We need to talk about something important and world-changing and huge, something that I won't leave until we've discussed, it's that fundamental."

The stunned and almost scared Zouchouten thought, _I've_ _made_ _her_ _hate_ _me_. But how?

"Hey!" Kumaraten yelled from the other side of the door. "Let me back in!"

He pounded his fist against it, but Karura called, "Harold, go away! Go get yourself an early lunch, and if you keep interrupting me I'm going to do something drastic. I have something to tell Aaron, so _leave!_"

Kumaraten muttered something that sounded a lot like, "You have some nerve," but obediently went away, she didn't really care where. He could go sit outside on the street for all it mattered to her, or go home, or go have lunch, or go down to the mailroom to bother the mail boys and girls.

"Ellen, if I've somehow made you angry," Zouchouten said desperately, "I'm sorry for any offense I may have –"

"I read all eighty-seven love letters you wrote me," she said without preamble, cutting him off and making him gasp in shock. How had she gotten those? They were on his password-protected laptop, and he certainly hadn't sent them to her. He weakly tried, "Ellen, I know you're upset, but I really –"

"I'm not upset at _all_," she hastily assured him, stepping in close. "Aaron, they made me _happy_, so happy you wouldn't believe it."

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything as she whispered, "Because I love you too. If you were that scarred person, I would stay with you even if you had one hour left to live and cherish it for the rest of my life." And with that, she put her hands on either side of his face, leaned up, and kissed him.

Not a quick peck, either. It was a real kiss, long and sweet and with aching passion. He clung to her, his hands almost spanning her waist, holding her up as he tried to make her stay right here with his lips alone. Should he use his tongue, try to open hers? No, best not to make her pull back. Best to keep her here for as long as possible, because it was like ambrosia.

She parted her lips from his after a long time, and he brought her right back where she had been. Breath? Who needed breath? Not him, because he had Karura. But the ache in his lungs for oxygen was getting stronger, and finally he had to let her go. When they finally parted, she reached up and traced his cheek as she whispered, "God… Aaron…"

Another long, heartfelt kiss, and when they pulled back this time, she asked him, with her voice shaking, "Did you mean it, that you want to… marry me? Or was that just hyperbole?"

He turned pink and muttered, "Well, um, yes, but obviously it's a little soon for that. It'll need time to deepen, but you know that, you're intelligent. But Ellen, I didn't send you those letters. I wrote them," he hastened to assure her, "but I never planned to send them to you. Somebody must've hacked my laptop, I think."

"But you do love me?" she asked, needing to hear it.

"Hell yes," he assured her, holding her to his chest. "Like nothing else in the world."

She _grinned_, an expression he had never seen on her before, and one so beautiful he couldn't believe it. He could feel certain parts of his brain frying and fusing, but who cared? What was a little neurological rearrangement when Karura was grinning at him, loved him, and knew he loved her?

She kissed him again and again, and finally she took a deep breath, then told him, "Now, you're going to think I'm exceedingly wanton, but…" She took another breath and said firmly, "I want to make love with you."

She brought his forehead down to hers and continued, "I mean it. I do. I want to _show_ you. I want to love you, and I don't even _care _where we are."

He blinked in surprise. Dear lord, she really meant it. Then he beamed like a fool and replied, "Well, okay, Warrior Queen. I can handle that."

And now there was tongue in those kisses, and reverent, wandering hands, and lots and lots of foreplay, foreplay was good. In fact, in an hour they still hadn't really screwed, although certain acts had been tried and much appreciated. With clothes laid down on the floor to avoid rugburn, things were humming along just fine, Karura thought as Zouchouten did something most tantalizing indeed to her neck.

"Ahhh… ah!"

Suddenly a key could be heard in the door, along with Kumaraten growling, "I have a meeting soon, and I need my briefcase, dammit. This is _my _office, and –"

"Harold, fuck off!" Zouchouten bellowed, in perfect imitation of an annoyed Koumokuten. How dare that idiot try to unlock his office when his boss and his boss's assistant were about to get it on?! Didn't the man know this was a wonderfully wonderful moment, and about to lead to super wonderfully wonderful moments?

Affronted silence, but footsteps could be faintly heard moving away. Karura and Zouchouten didn't know this, but Kumaraten was off to go cry in the men's restroom, because he'd figured out what was happening in his sacred workspace. He was germ-phobic, and rued the day he'd had Zouchouten come down here for that file instead of bringing it up himself (that would be today, in fact).

Now that the poor engineer was gone, our hero and heroine returned their attention to doing naughty things. On the floor of Kumaraten's office, they made love, then lay gasping in the aftermath, clinging to each other. Wonderful, passionate, breathless and unashamed… yes.

_Exquisite,_ he thought hazily, cuddling her in the afterglow. He held her to him, languid and contented and complete, silent because words would just get in the way. Her hair, loose now, was gathered into his hands, stroked and toyed with, and she tilted her head to let him do it. Finally, after a very long time, she said, "We have to get up."

He wanted to groan and say, "No, we're going to stay on this floor forever," but he glanced at the clock. Oh… damn. Two hours had passed since she'd come in! No doubt Kumaraten had had to cancel his meeting without his briefcase.

Zouchouten decided, as they got up, that he would give Kumaraten an "I'm sorry I slept with my assistant in your office and screwed up your day" bonus, and a fruit basket or something. And a heartfelt apology, not that he was actually sorry that it had happened. He could be like Shashi: no apologies for the action, an apology for the bad feelings engendered by said action.

As they dressed, they talked about the future. It was decided that a transfer would be a prudent thing to do, since working with your lover was something no business would tolerate, they were sure. Well, they'd miss working so closely, but if it was a choice between working together or _being _together, they'd sacrifice the former. It would be worth it, totally.

He struggled with his tie without a mirror, and Karura stilled his hands with a quick, "Here."

She fixed it, capable and stern, but with a spark in her eyes that hadn't been there before. As she finished, she smiled, "There. Now you look every inch the General of Research and Development, and damn good in a suit," she complimented, patting his cheek.

He gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her, "Thank you. For that and everything else."

She gave him a small but very real smile, replying, "You're welcome, and thank you too. It'll be worth it, having to transfer, because I'll be able to call you mine."

After conscientiously using some hand sanitizer before they touched any of Kumaraten's things, she took his hand in hers as they walked to the door, opening it just a crack and peering out. She murmured, "No one's there. I honestly thought there'd be a group of employees taking bets and wolf whistling. The lights are even out."

"I would have docked their pay for that," he smirked. Ha, yes, abusing your work power was a bonus you got for being a Senior Vice President! Not like _he _usually did, but boy, did Koumokuten take advantage of that. Bishamonten too, to a lesser extent, and Taishakuten – well, Taishakuten was Taishakuten, enough said.

"Oh you would have, would you?" she smirked back in reply to his statement, then turned and gave him another kiss.

Unfortunately, that meant they weren't watching the door, and as they now walked out, the lights were flipped on and Reginald Bishamonten stared at them with a shocked look on his face. Uh-oh. Zouchouten immediately went into that primitive male "Protect mate" mode of operation, grabbing Karura and clinging to her. Karura immediately went into the primitive _female _"Protect mate" mode of operation, doing the same to him. They stared at Bishamonten, their eyes wide and really, _really _hoping that there would be no loud yells of "I'm telling! The whole company will know shortly!"

But miracle of miracles, no such thing happened. Instead, Bishamonten gave them a slight smile and a murmured, "Congratulations. I do expect the new design proposal by tomorrow though."

As their expressions changed to those of extreme relief, he made an about-face, humming "When You Love a Woman," and strolled away, closing the workspace door behind him. Karura and Zouchouten stared at it for a moment, and then he sighed and told her, "Taishakuten will be coming by soon, because you _know _Reginald's going to tattle. If we get fired, at least no one will be able to say why."

"Brace yourself," Karura agreed as she rubbed a bit of lipstick she'd missed earlier off his face. "But surely we'll be able to get different jobs, we're good at what we do. Microsoft perhaps, you know computers and such."

So when Taishakuten paid them a little visit forty-five minutes later, they were prepared. He walked into the office, closed and locked the door behind him, and said simply, "Sleeping together on the work premises is something most people do not do, Aaron and Ellen."

"Sir," Zouchouten said, gearing up for a prepared speech, "Ellen and I are in love, and we completely understand that –"

"Yes, you are. You have my congratulations that you figured it out," Taishakuten smirked. "Now, here's something that will no doubt surprise you: I don't really care if you're working together and in a relationship, because you've earned a reward for all your hard work, Aaron."

Stunned silence from Zouchouten and Karura, and the CEO went on, "Naturally you cannot parade it around. But if you are able act professional and platonic while on the clock and in this skyscraper, you will be able to continue as boss and underling. If not, I will transfer her. Yes it's quite counterintuitive to most business practices, but I have never put much stock in being just like everybody else."

"Why?" Zouchouten had to ask. "Why are you letting us off the hook?"

"Because you make this company billions," Taishakuten said bluntly. "Happy employees are more productive, and you work well together. Thus, you will make Tenkai Corporation even more money. So can you handle working platonically?"

"Yes!" was the immediate answer, in two voices.

Taishakuten purred, "Good, good. On a personal note, I am amused by all of this, and I somehow have the sense that she initiated it. Ellen, I daresay Aaron had his hand in this too, but really, I'm quite proud."

Karura stared, nonplussed, as the CEO turned to go with a casual, "Well, my Senior Vice President of Research and Development, your lover is very audacious, I must say. Seducing her boss in another man's office…" he chuckled, walking off.

They stared after him, then Karura nodded and said, "Right. Come home with me this evening."

Zouchouten grinned, life a wonderful thing now, and agreed, "All right, my dear audacious assistant."

And he did. He made sure to stop at his house, let Lola out, clean up after her, and ask his next-door neighbor Laura to take care of her in the morning, all the while smiling like a fool. Lola, being a smart dog, wondered what had made Daddy so happy, but hey, when Daddy was happy she was happy too. Well, he _had _told her what had happened, but the words had unsurprisingly gone right over her canine head. The pleased tone hadn't, though, so she knew somethinggood was afoot.

"Lola," he grinned as he got her some fresh water, "things will be much, much better now. Your daddy can stop pining and do all sorts of romantic things with Ellen, like going out to fancy dinners and giving her flowers, not to mention telling her how wonderful she is and how much I adore her."

"Woof!" Lola agreed, wagging her tail.

He made sure to pack an overnight bag of clean clothes for tomorrow, toilette essentials like a toothbrush and deodorant, plus some protection for the upcoming naughty business. No sense risking any more than they already had, and he fervently hoped that that oversight would not result in complications of an unplanned offspring nature. But if it had, well, he wouldn't cry over it. He loved children after all, and that would just mean that they had to get hitched sooner.

He _would_ marry her, he was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure of that one. But it was wise to let it deepen on the tiny off-chance that it might not work, and anyway, it was good to date someone for a while before you decided to cohabit and get hitched. She'd probably just move into his mansion, he thought as he started his car, and that would be just fine and dandy with him because he liked it an awful lot.

He sang along to every romantic song on the radio, from "Accidentally in Love" (Counting Crows) to "Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" (U2) to "Nobody Wants to Be Lonely" (Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera). In fact, every time one of those ended and a non-romantic song began, he switched the station with a grin. Ah, satellite radio… it was a lovely invention.

As Zouchouten was belting the Faith Hill hit "This Kiss," Karura was sitting Karyoubinga down in the living room and saying solemnly, "Karyou, today my life changed for the better. You see, I –"

"Confessed to Aaron?" Karyoubinga guessed hopefully.

With a grin, Karura answered, "Yes, yes I did. And he confirmed that he loved me too. It's a super-awesome-happy-great-wonderful-perfect-cool feeling, to be uncharacteristically giggly," she laughed.

Karyoubinga said wisely, "If you can't be giggly for something like that, there's something wrong with you, sister. Did you kiss him?" she asked eagerly, because to a seven-year-old, that's the ultimate expression of love. Marriage? That was kind of a hazy thing, off in the distant future, which surely was a direct result of kissing or Disney and DreamWorks were pulling the wool over her eyes.

Karura chose her words carefully in response to Karyoubinga's question: "I did. He kissed me too. For a very long time. Now, you should only kiss somebody you love," she hastened to tack on, being an overprotective parent figure/sibling. "And actually Karyou, he's coming over here," she said in as normal a tone as she could muster, edging closer to the bombshell of "He's going to stay the night."

"Really? We can –"

_Ding-dong!_

"That's him now," Karura smiled, dashing over to the door, throwing it open, and proclaiming, "Aaron, welcome to ou–"

"I'm not Aaron," the woman holding a Bible on her doorstep replied. As Karura started to glare, she went on, "Ma'am, may I talk to you about Jesus Christ, who died for the whole world's sins?"

"NO!" Karura snarled, suddenly furious. "Didn't you see the 'No Solicitations' sign by the door?! I realize that this is what you probably have to do for your church, but we're spiritual here already, just not rigidly religious. Leave now, please," she ordered, in her best "superior personality" tone.

"Can I at least leave you some literature?" the other woman doggedly replied. "God wants everyone to know His story and plan for your life."

Karura, who shredded "Take the Bible literally, and homosexuality and birth control mean you're going to Hell" pamphlets with vicious enjoyment, had a sudden urge to utilize some kung fu. But no, one of the first lessons you learned in martial arts was not to abuse your skills. So she'd just have to be firm, she was good at being firm, and if that didn't work she'd threaten to call the police if this woman didn't get off her property.

"I do not need your pamphlets," she said as frostily as she could. "I will politely ask you one more time to leave."

And it worked. Perhaps if she'd known what was about to happen the Christian solicitor would have been tempted to stay and preach about chastity, but as it was she sighed, "God loves you even when you turn your back on Him, goodbye now," and left.

Karura made herself close the door gently instead of slamming it. By this time Karyoubinga had popped into the bathroom, so she used this reprieve to think of what to say to her. She was just pondering the merits of just having "The Talk" and being done with it when the doorbell rang again. To her credit, she didn't yank it open and scream, "Unless you're Aaron, go away!"

It wouldn't have mattered much anyway, though, because this time it _was _Zouchouten. With flowers too, wow. He didn't miss a trick.

"Ellen," he greeted with a brilliant smile, proffering the red roses. "These are for you."

Whoa, plants that had to be immediately stuck in water and wilted within a matter of days, and got moldy if you didn't take care of them in time! But she wasn't thinking like that, nosirree. Nope, she was aware that red roses symbolized romantic interest, and they _were_ lovely. She accepted them with a flush on her face, gave him a kiss, and stepped back to let him in.

"Hi Aaron!" Karyoubinga sang, launching herself at Zouchouten for a hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," he grinned, picking her up in response. She shrieked in happy surprise as he hugged her too, her feet high off the ground. Cool, this was an unexpected bonus of her sister having a giant boyfriend! Fun stuff like this could happen.

When he set her down, she immediately urged, "Sister, sister, show him around, sister!"

And she did. Zouchouten got the full downstairs tour, accompanied by commentary from Karyoubinga: the living room ("Ellen said we couldn't get a big-screen TV because she doesn't want me watching it all the time"), the kitchen ("Our microwave once caught fire, and Ellen put it out with the fire extinguisher"), the study ("I don't spend a lot of time in here, it's for working"), the back hallway ("I swept it yesterday because I'm good at helping"), and the downstairs bathroom ("See the swan towels, Aaron?").

And then, before they could either see the basement or go upstairs, Karura led the way to a small room with lots of windows next to the bathroom.

"This is the aviary," she informed Zouchouten proudly. "Every Sunday, I spend hours cleaning it, even though of course I clean it throughout the week too. I have four species of finches, and two species of canary. Would you like to see the eggs of the red factor canaries?"

"Sure I would," he agreed, and she swung the door open.

It was a _nice _aviary, and all the birds were hand-tame, something unusual for finches. But Karura had hand-reared all of them, and they loved her. Why wouldn't they? They had this lovely space with windows galore, lots of interesting perches and cover, all the healthy food they needed, and the affection they'd gotten used to. None of their wings were clipped, and occasionally one got out into the house, but finches' wings were too delicate to trim anyway.

At the sight of She Who Brings the Food a chorus of chirping went up, and they all flew over, save for Gandarava, the red factor female who was sitting on the nest. Karura introduced them all, and the white zebra finch named Garuda settled onto her hand and studied Zouchouten. Hmm, huge. Huge with a deep voice, and weird hair on his face, but She Who Brings the Food was obviously fond of him so Garuda decided that he was okay. After all, she had never, ever tried to hurt him or anybody else in here, so for her to bring something dangerous in was exceedingly unlikely.

After the aviary (and conscientiously washing their hands) the Karura sisters continued the tour. Zouchouten saw the basement, and complimented its lack of clutter. He saw the upstairs hallway, and complimented the watercolors on the wall. He saw the upstairs bathroom, and complimented Karyoubinga's new, fancy toothbrush, which she had excitedly pointed out. He saw Karyoubinga's room, and complimented the art on the walls that she'd drawn herself. And then he saw Karura's bedroom, thought about mentioning how a single bed would make for a tight fit, but instead complimented the view from her windows. Oh well, that just meant she'd probably have to sleep on top of him, what a _shame_.

After showing him the yard and even the garage, it was time to make dinner. It was a team effort, and there was just something so _intimate _about helping your lover cook, he thought in infatuated happiness. Sure when you'd done it twenty or so times it was no longer thrilling, but for now, it was great. Despite him not knowing where things were, stir-fry was still prepared in record time, and it tasted darngood.

Finally, once dinner had been eaten and cleared away, talk had been talked in the living room, and Karyoubinga was starting to yawn, Karura decreed, "Bedtime, Karyou. Tell him 'goodnight' and we'll make you French toast tomorrow. Unless he'd rather have waffles," she amended.

"And where are you going to sleep?" Karyoubinga asked Zouchouten innocently. "On our couch?"

"Um, no," Karura said carefully. "He's going to be with me, Karyou, and… well… er…"

She paused, looking to Zouchouten for some nonverbal advice. How did you tell your innocent little sister that you were going to have sex with someone, so she couldn't come into the room or she'd be scarred for life? "Karyou, stay in your room or you'll have to go claw your eyes out"?

Zouchouten took care of that, with a simple, "Karyou, Ellen and I would like some privacy tonight, please."

"Okay," she agreed, vowing to talk to that blabbermouth Jeanne Baker tomorrow about this. Jeanne, by way of explanation, was a girl whose mom was a single parent and often had men over, and had known the facts of life by age four. Yes, she kept trying to ruin all the other kids' innocence, which meant that soon Karura _would_ be having "The Talk" with Karyoubinga just to correct Jeanne's wild exaggerations, and to stress that casual sex was a bad thing.

"She's adorable," Zouchouten said fondly, after Karyoubinga had obediently disappeared upstairs. "You raised her well."

"Thank you. But she would have been adorable anyway, even if I'd been a horrible parent figure. But we all know I would never have neglected her or ignored her needs, because she's the most important person – well, _one _of the two most important people in the world to me," Karura told him with a contented smile.

After which there was more sappiness, and after he grabbed the overnight bag and followed her up to her room, there was _sexy _sappiness.

.

The next morning found Zouchouten and Karura back at work, tired but contented. As she entered some information into her palm pilot, he happily drank the best coffee he'd ever tasted, and that was saying something. After all, he was addicted to the stuff, and had required three mugs at breakfast. Karura made the vow that she would wean him off it, because it could only be good for his health to do that.

"My, Ellen, you've outdone yourself today," he complimented with a grin. "You could make a fortune as a barista."

She gave him a smile and a matter-of-fact, "I made that coffee with love."

"Aw, now if that isn't just the sweetest, most sugary thing _ever_," Koumokuten's drawling voice came from the door. "Coffee: the way to Aaron's heart. Buy him a sack for Valentine's Day and he'll probably reward you with really expensive jewelry, chocolates, and a spa package."

He and Bishamonten walked in, grinning. Both of them obviously expected Karura to blush and stammer something like, "I didn't know you were there," in an embarrassed tone, but she just gazed at them levelly and replied, "It works. Did you need something?"

As Koumokuten clearly wondered how to respond to such calmness, Bishamonten murmured, "Actually yes, we do."

"Ellen," Souma laughed, peeking in and waving on cue, "Ellen, I need your help."

Koumokuten smirked and thought, _Thank you, Nina. Nothing like a bribe to make you assist us, huh? It's so totally worth it, having to buy you lunch for two weeks and interact with your bitchy self._

Karura sighed, "Excuse me," walking off and shutting the door behind her as Zouchouten picked up a printed email, putting his glasses on as a shield. Bishamonten and Koumokuten watched her go, then turned back with almost gleeful smiles on their faces. And here came the ribbing and inappropriate comments, Zouchouten could tell where this was going.

"Harold," Bishamonten purred with dark amusement, "is walking around his office like the carpet will poison him on contact, and picking things up with latex gloves."

"Er." Zouchouten took his glasses off, because they obviously weren't working and he wasn't reading the email anyway. He tried, "Look, um, I'll go assure him that we –"

"Aaron," Koumokuten smirked, plucking the paper from the other man's hands and holding it hostage, "every employee on this floor, and the three below it, is standing around water coolers bragging, '_I _knew they were having an affair _years_ ago!' They're completely convinced of that, I swear it's true."

"Uh…" Zouchouten's jaw tightened then, and he said bluntly, "Well, I'm not sorry."

Koumokuten smacked him on the shoulder and grinned, "Good. If you'd started mumbling about how it was all an innocent misunderstanding, and you were helping her with a bee in her blouse, we would've had to tie you to a chair and give you a PowerPoint presentation on 'Do Not Lie.' "

Bishamonten nodded, "Yes. Or announce over the PA system that you weren't allowed to go home until you were honest."

Koumokuten gave Zouchouten a thumbs-up, Bishamonten gave him a pat on the back, and then they both walked out, snickering. They'd of course be teasing him later, but for now, it had been important to give this their blessing, not that it would have halted if they hadn't. But ha, now that the blessing was out of the way, it was time to make jokes and innuendos, which they were doing as they walked back to their offices.

.

A day later, it was Saturday. Which meant that Karura could easily get a babysitter for Karyoubinga, and go on over to Zouchouten's house for some snugglebunnies, to use Kujaku's favorite euphemism for sex. And for dinner too, at Le Maison Jeanne-Claudette. They'd lucked out that the restaurant had just had a cancellation when they'd called to make a reservation, so they didn't have to wait for weeks to get in.

_This is the exact opposite of that torture with Ian, _Karura thought. Zouchouten had shut his phone off, held doors, let her select the wine, was polite to the waiter, and didn't start his sentences with, "Well, _I_…" which tended to imply that his conversation partner was inferior and stupid.

It was the lovely dinner to end all lovely dinners, and once they got back to his house, he proceeded to show her around. Lola, of course, was so excited to see Karura that she tried to jump up and lick her face, which she'd never done before. Yes, she knew things had changed for the better, and that was a joyous occasion.

"And that picture on the mantle," Zouchouten said as he walked over to it with Karura trailing him, "is my deceased wife, Kelly. She would have loved you."

Karura studied the photograph. Kelly had had huge, gentle green eyes, long wavy blond hair, and a smile so sweet one might swear she had never been sad in her life. She had been petite, shorter than Karura, and in this photograph she was wearing a long white dress and perched on a swing in front of a flowering tree, for an image that the photographer had put into her portfolio.

"She was beautiful, Aaron," Karura said quietly, as he reached out and touched Kelly's image under the glass. "She looks very caring."

"She was. We couldn't walk by a pet without her having to stop and pet it, or a child without her waving and making them smile. But like I said, Ellen, she would have loved you," he smiled, turning to face her again. "I've made my peace with her death. I'll always love her, _and _I've come to love you just as much, maybe more."

Aw, warm fluffy feeling! She was starting to get used to that around him, which was so much better than that angsty longing.

"I'm so glad we're together now," she told him fervently. "You have no idea, you really don't."

"Oh, I think I do. I still can't believe Victor hacked my laptop," Zouchouten sighed, "but I had to thank him. And of course he replied with a crack about how I 'gave Shakespeare's sonnets a run for their money, you big lovesick softy you.' That man is incorrigible."

"I think James must sometimes want to snap at him for that," Karura smirked, "but I've seen Victor pull a trick a few times: he starts singing this one Lady Gaga song, and James gets this dorkily serene look on his face. He's never done it in the office," she allowed, "but at picnics and parties he has."

"Music is a glorious thing," Zouchouten agreed, crossing to his stereo. "In fact, let's hear some right now. Do you like Latin music?"

"I like almost _all _music, barring those with violent and/or misogynistic lyrics," she assured him, as he stuck his favorite Instrumentales Inolvidables CD in the stereo system. The dramatic tones of Alfredo De Angelis' "La Mariposa" filled the room then, and she grinned.

"I recognize this music," she told him a bit proudly. "It's used for tango. You remember, I've taken a few classes on the Argentine version of the dance."

Oh yes, he remembered, she'd mentioned that yesterday and they'd made plans to go to a ballroom tomorrow. But hey, she was wearing a dress with two side slits and heels with straps, and there was a lot of space in his living room, so…

He smiled at her, looked into her eyes, raised his eyebrows, and made a slight movement of his head to the "dance floor," which was how you asked someone to dance in that tradition. Of course it they didn't know that you simply asked them with words, but no, Karura knew. She lit up, smiled, and nodded while keeping perfect eye contact, coming towards him as he came towards her.

Tango… the dance of passion, he'd often heard it called. And the great thing about it was, there was no set way to dance it. There were basic and more advanced steps, but it could be different each time, which was the half the fun of it. You concentrated on your connection with your partner, not a routine that never varied.

"I'm an intermediate dancer," she told him as they embraced, chest to chest and his hand on her lower back. "What about you?"

"Intermediate, possibly high-intermediate," he grinned as he began to lead. "Kelly and I used to do this all the time, and we even attended some milongas. I've kept in practice, because it was so much work to get good at it and I have fun with it."

And oh boy, _did_ they have fun with it. Double-time walking, drags with her leg wrapped around his waist, sweeps, turns, twists, all sorts of embellishments, ending with a backwards dip with Karura held nearly horizontal off the floor, only one foot touching the ground. It was the dance of passion indeed, he thought as he kissed her.

_I'll marry you soon, _she thought as she kissed back, _and then the world can know how well we go together._

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(AN: A milonga can be one of three things: a style of music, a style of dance, and a tango dance party, which is the way Zouchouten used it. Neat, huh?

That particular piece of music _is _recommended for tango, and the title means "The Butterfly," so I chose it because of the Happy River hike. It's in the Golden Age Dramatic style, which makes it a bit harder to dance to but still good for those who aren't experts. Good thing Karura and Zouchouten are intermediate dancers, huh?

So this is one of the few times I'll ever write Zouchouten/Nameless Omake Cutesy Wife with complete sympathy. She's out of the blue, never mentioned again, seemed ditzy, apparently does nothing but sit around and play with the pet, cute over beautiful… yeah. Can you blame me for preferring Zouchouten/Karura? Hints of affection, we see them interact in the actual storyline, and Karura's badass, smart, slays demons and bad guys, and is so very very beautiful. I'm sure you can agree that I have a bit of a point here.

On another music note, every English song mentioned here is on my iPod for Karuzou. Yeah, I have a "RG Veda" playlist because I'm a dork like that. "Objection [Tango]" was mostly for the tango angle and the humor of Zouchouten belting Shakira in his shower, probably using a shampoo bottle as a mic. Although if it were to be sung by a man and Karura was stuck on Yasha or somebody, it so totally fits, which is why it's on that playlist. So go listen to it!

Next up, my least favorite installment, which might well turn out to be a lot of people's favorite installment and possibly the only one some people will read: Taishakuten/Lord Ashura, with Ashura too because he's a cutie. We'll see alpha-male office fantasies, and Lord Ashura being incredibly unobservant, and such. And dollops of one-sided Kuyou and Hanranya devotion towards Mr. Selfish and Mr. Psycho [respectively], plus some passive-aggression towards Taishakuten from my favorite blind prophetess, even though she's merely very near-sighted here.)


	6. Sexy Hair

**Chapter Six: Sexy Hair**

_So maybe his fiancée doesn't love him and he can't love her, but Taishakuten always has Ashuraou to pal around with. Ashura wants Taishakuten to leave his daddy alone, and more toys. _

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(AN: Just be forewarned, I take potshots at both men and later canon. Flames will be read, taken to heart if they have a point relating to the writing, and ignored otherwise. Of course I'm not trying to insult those of you who _like_ those two and that pairing, I'm just pointing out that CLAMP pulled a real bait-and-switch from the early volumes to the later ones.

No, I'm not trying to bash fans of them, or even the pairing. I like some pretty strange pairings too, this fic should make that obvious. [Just because it's canon, it doesn't mean it's not strange.] I _am_ poking holes in the way CLAMP forgave the monster just because he loved someone, someone we all had excellent reason to believe was a guy he hated.

For Gawd's sake, he lives through the climactic fight and dies peacefully! After killing Karyou for no reason whatsoever, Kisshouten just to make a mockery of his deal with Bishamonten, and Karura too. Not to mention he's responsible for the deaths of countless innocents… and here our courageous hero who vowed to kill him, and Kujaku, let him off the hook, when he's shown not a smidgen of remorse for any of it? And going off the earlier manga, that sex bargain actually makes no sense whatsoever, I'm not even joking. Ask me why, and I'll be happy to politely tell you.

So I've probably made most "RG Veda" fans hate me right there. Still, I mean, c'mon, I'm writing Taishura-ou, or whatever you wanna call it. Hopefully you can enjoy this story, which _does_ have un-explicit mansex, and violent fantasies, and mention of animal abuse, and lots of gayness, and Ashura being adorable. It's really not as negative as this author's note makes it sound, I promise you.)

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(September 5th, 2012)

Arthur Taishakuten was the king of the business world, as he told himself whenever possible. Being the president and CEO of Tenkai Corporation meant that he was better than everyone else, so why should he bother caring about their feelings and what happened to them? They were inferior and inconsequential, mere ants to the towering war stallion that was him.

"Sir," an inferior person out in the community would say, "I've been waiting here for twenty-five minutes, next in line, and you just cut ahead of me to get into the gala luncheon. Who do you think you are?"

"Someone who has the front of the line pass," he'd reply with a smirk, ever so casually waving it in the fool's face. "Don't you know who I am?"

If the inferior was a high-rolling _important _person, they'd take another look at Taishakuten's long silver hair and suddenly gulp, realizing that they'd just confronted the man dubbed "the Hannibal Lector of business" in an editorial. If they were new to power or just there because they _knew_ somebody with power, they'd snap, "No, I don't know who you are. But you could be a little more polite abou–"

"I am the CEO of one of the most wealthy and powerful companies in the world, certainly the most powerful and important in the city of Zenmi," Taishakuten would inform them. "And if I want to cut in line, I have that right. Be thankful that I didn't send you to the back of it for your insolence."

He was like that to almost everyone, even his "Generals of the Boardroom" Reginald Bishamonten, Aaron Zouchouten, and Xavier Koumokuten. His assistant, poor tortured Nina Souma, despised him and daily entertained fantasies of murder. And she wasn't the only one, not by a long shot. Koumokuten wanted to set his hair on fire. Zouchouten often wondered, in the dead of night, why he worked for such a man. Even Bishamonten privately acknowledged that his boss was a terrible human being.

But Taishakuten was fully convinced that he was just misunderstood, so what if he'd once bought a hamster just to crush it under his foot? "I'm a good person," he'd croon to his reflection with no trace of irony or sarcasm at all, even if he'd just had an annoying politician taken out in a hit made to look like a car accident.

His own family hated him too, by now. Well, his little brother Trent had always hated him, as Taishakuten had humiliated, physically hurt, teased, tattled on, and dumped a glass of root beer on him. Trent lived in another country now actually, just to get away from his evil big brother, and no, that was not hyperbole.

Taishakuten's parents had finally accepted the fact that their son was a sociopath. Oh, they'd been told that for years, but had insisted that he was just a little aggressive, even when he'd tortured garden pests and coldly sold his friends out. But now, seeing him with power, they'd had to accept that all those teachers and neighbors had been right. _Way _right.

He enjoyed causing emotional pain, adored causing physical pain whenever possible, looked down upon almost everyone under the sun, poured money into politicians whose policies hurt the poor (they didn't even have to benefit the wealthy, although that was of course better), and laughed at mass shootings and such. People all over the world agreed that he was dangerous and probably unbalanced. But despite being such a violent, cruel, arrogant bastard… Taishakuten was _secretly _a noble man who did it all for love. Really!

…Okay, so maybe it was for love of _himself _most of the time. But surely the fact that he loved someone made him not so bad. In fact, it made him some sort of nobly tragic hero, as he told himself every night. Yes, love made it so his cruelty everywhere else was unimportant, he was sure.

Did he love Shashi Prince? Was his fiancée the one reason he was such an angsty antihero who should be adored? Ha! Of course not. He was marrying her for cover. Because he was, in point of fact, gay. And he was in love with Karl Ashuraou.

Now, an outside observer from their freshman year of college might say that this made no sense. After all, they had come to blows, screamed at each other, threatened each other, and been polar opposites. In a nutshell, Ashuraou was good, Taishakuten was evil. It had been clearly demonstrated that they were enemies, with no hints of anything but hate between them.

Still, an observer from sophomore year on would have thought, _Really? Well, they __are__ best friends, although I think maybe Arthur's blackmailing Karl into it somehow. _Yes, at the end of freshman year, they had decided to be pals instead of enemies. For twelve years, they were best buds, and that was all. But all of a sudden, Taishakuten had fallen in love with him. As he'd watched Ashuraou suck on a Popsicle one day at a beach outing, he'd thought, _I want that man. _

And it was like a floodgate of yaoi fantasies had opened up. But the thing was, Taishakuten was in the closet. _Way_ in the closet, so far in you could only see his feet under the clothes. And in denial, fervently hoping that maybe he was just bisexual, and he'd told himself that surely he would come to love Shashi with time.

But the more time he spent with her, the more he was coming to realize that that would never be so. Of course he _liked _her, because she was almost as power-hungry and nasty as he was, but he could not love her. Well, too bad. He couldn't come out of the closet, he'd made that vow when he'd first been hired in Tenkai Corporation. Because business was rather conservative, and a gay executive would more than likely find himself fired for something little that a straight man wouldn't have been fired for. Surely no one would back him up, either.

At least, that was what he'd thought. In reality, Vern Kujaku had been, while a bit weirded out that his son was bisexual, not about to fire his then-head of Expansion just for that. He probably should have fired Taishakuten before he toppled him, but too late now!

Taishakuten had been aware that he liked men since high school. He'd had a passionate, one-night, "We'll only ever have this, so let's make it special," affair with the football captain, before they both went off to different colleges. He'd done a few surreptitious things with other men in college, but George Jenkins, he often thought, had been something else.

But now… now when he thought about George, it was only to wonder how Ashuraou might compare.

Taishakuten had decided one day, completely out of the blue, that he was only toppling so many companies, harassing so many people, and making so much money because Ashuraou would _want _him to. Yes, of course that was it! That was his purpose in life, which oh-so-conveniently meant that he wouldn't have to take responsibility for his actions.

_Karl would want me to be all that I can be, _he'd smirked to his reflection that day. _He urged me, on the day of graduation, to never stop reaching for the top. Well Karl, I've made you proud, I think._

It didn't matter in the least that he'd driven numerous people to breakdowns and suicides, ignored environmental laws for kicks, and didn't feel right if he wasn't making someone, somewhere, suffer somehow. He was doing it all for Ashuraou, so he should be forgiven and in fact loved.

He told himself that as Bishamonten delivered his daily report on possible internal dissent, other things of interest, and ego stroking directed at his boss. He knew how to keep him happy, oh yes he did.

"Excellent work, Reginald," Taishakuten said with a smirk when Bishamonten was done. "I can sleep better at night knowing that you're on the job. You know, I've told Shashi how dedicated you are, and she says you're a real find."

"She did, did she?" Bishamonten asked, sounding studiously casual. "How nice."

He had dated Shashi eighteen years ago and still had feelings for her, it was obvious. Taishakuten had once asked his fiancée why they'd broken up, and gotten the clipped reply, "He cheated on me," before she changed the subject. Unbeknownst to both Shashi and Taishakuten, he hadn't. He'd been having lunch with an extremely physical lesbian friend, who'd hugged him and kissed his cheek just as Shashi walked in the deli. He'd dated Lena years ago, and alas, she'd thought that meant it was okay to plant one on him. Shashi had blanched and whirled around, storming off to pack her bags and hightail it away to New York, even as Bishamonten was sighing, "Lena, please, don't do that. It makes me uncomfortable."

His frantic calls for Shashi to come back had been ignored, because she'd shut her giant '90s cell phone off and deleted all messages without listening to a word. He'd managed to track her to a hotel and, with luck so bad it was pitiful, gotten the wrong room. As he was asking a burly biker, "Are you _sure _there's no one else in there?" she'd strolled down the hallway, made an abrupt about-face, and spent the next hour in the women's restroom while he'd returned to the airport, heartbroken.

But Taishakuten didn't know this, so he thought Bishamonten had merely been promiscuous and very stupid. The stupidity wasn't for cheating, but rather, it was for letting himself get caught. What a moron.

"Yes, she did say that you're a find," Taishakuten assured the supposed moron. "And you know, Tenou keeps going on about how much fun he has with you. The Science Museum, I think, was one of the highlights of his year. And on a side note, Reginald, isn't he so undeniably _nice _it's almost frightening?"

"His father must have been some sort of kind, help-the-world, charity-driven Good Samaritan, I think," Bishamonten replied, smiling a bit. "Surely you'll agree."

"Oh," Taishakuten said casually, "I know all about Tenou's father."

"That's nice," Bishamonten replied, completely and totally clueless to the fact that Tenou's father was a redheaded business executive with an unusual hairstyle. "She must have told you everything about him, yes?"

Taishakuten mentally sighed. For all his intelligence everywhere else, his right-hand man was missing this important fact. Well, it wasn't like Shashi paraded it around. For example, she'd told her fiancé that, "Tenou's father's name was Richard. He was such a wonderful man."

"Yes Reginald, it is nice. That boy has such vivid hair, doesn't he?" Taishakuten tried. Surely this sledgehammer hint would make the head of Expansion think a bit.

But no. "She told me two of his grandparents were redheaded, that's where Tenou gets it," Bishamonten smiled. He seemed to be about to say something else ("You know, at first I thought he was _mine_"), but desisted (because bringing up the fact that he'd slept with his boss' woman was a bad career move).

Taishakuten decided that oh well, this was amusing. He could make comments with double meanings, and they'd go right over Bishamonten's little red head. This would be even funnier than the time he'd made Koumokuten sweat with "murdering your wife" jokes.

And hmm, perhaps Shashi could be toyed with as well? The CEO had never told her what he'd figured out, because it didn't matter. Despite the obvious sexual tension between them, Bishamonten was married, Shashi was engaged, life isn't fair, cry me a river. The two of them, Taishakuten was sure, would never be together in the romantic sense again. Although…

What if, years down the road, Shashi became complacent with her position as the CEO's wife, and initiated a doubly adulterous affair? What if one day Taishakuten came home early to find his cover wife and his most loyal minion sans clothing in his bed?

Well, if that happened, they would pay dearly. Bishamonten would be fired in a spectacular and humiliating manner, and the world (and most importantly Kisshouten) would hear every tawdry detail, plus Taishakuten would sue him on some trumped-up charge of business malpractice. And Shashi would be divorced in a heartbeat, and she wouldn't get a cent of his assets. Plus she'd be humiliated too.

He'd just find a _different _cover wife, this time one who was really stupid and obedient, and a _different _Senior VP of Expansion, either Koumokuten or Zouchouten, neither of which would ever sleep with her. He'd fill the ranks with some up-and-coming young corporate buck, and that one wouldn't sleep with the new wife either. Maybe he'd even get a straight woman.

"Sir?" Bishamonten asked, a bit perturbed at this long silence as Taishakuten thought. "Is something wrong?"

"No. No, Reginald, everything is all right. You work hard, Tenou will be the perfect stepson, and Shashi and I have reserved the beach for the wedding in Guam. I don't need to tell you that I expect you to be there."

"I thought I'd be in the wedding party," Bishamonten said cautiously. "I know you're having your brother Trent as the best man, but Aaron, Xavier, and I thought we'd be groomsmen. Were we wrong?"

"No, of course not," Taishakuten smiled. "You must forgive me for not asking any of you earlier, Shashi and I have been so busy, both together and apart. Our trip to Los Angeles last weekend was most enjoyable. If only we'd been able to stay longer than two days, but as CEO I have so little time for myself. I mean, I'm fretting over taking two weeks off for the honeymoon next April."

Being a loyal office underling, Bishamonten immediately assured him, "Sir, you _know _I'll watch over the company well in your absence. It's only two weeks, don't fret." And then, being a loyal Taishakuten friend who was trying so very hard to ignore how much he wanted his boss' fiancée, he went on, "I'm sure she had a most enjoyable time with you indeed. She loves to travel," he said, before he could remind himself that bringing up the past was a bad idea.

"Yes Reginald," Taishakuten said serenely, "you and I have both taken Shashi places. Except she came back with certain baggage from you."

Ha, what a clever little metaphor. And the best part was, Bishamonten would probably think he was talking about _emotional _baggage, not a son.

And yes, the head of Expansion now looked both guilty and intrigued as he replied, "I, er, I'm sure that she'll get over it, sir. After all, she's in love with you." He'd said the last part stiffly, as if it were killing him to pronounce those words.

"Of course she is," Taishakuten smiled, lying because it was fun. "And I love her too." Also a lie, but a necessary one.

Once Bishamonten had left, reciting, _Let it go, let it go, let it go, _in his head, Taishakuten pressed the button for the intercom and asked, "Hanranya? Is Nina back from her errand yet? We have a meeting in twenty-three minutes, and I want to prepare for it."

"No sir, but do you want me to call her? Or hunt her down? Sir, anything you say to do, I'll do," Hanranya Seering replied fervently. After all, he was her god, and she lay awake at night and fantasized about him bending her backwards with a smooch, and all sorts of things that that might lead to.

Taishakuten was well aware that Hanranya was in love with him, he was a very observant man. He actually didn't have to be in this regard, because she spoke of him with reverence and longing, told him how he was the most important man in the world to her, and had given him a giant, heart-shaped box of chocolates on the most recent Valentine's Day. But he couldn't care less.

Naturally she was in love with him, who in their right mind wouldn't be, he honestly wondered as an executive from Production bawled in the bathroom over what he had said to him. But Taishakuten viewed Hanranya as merely another loyal servant, never mind that she would have happily died for him in myriad horrible ways. She wasn't Ashuraou, so he would have thrown her to the wolves in a heartbeat if needed, with no regrets whatsoever.

Oh, but Ashuraou… Taishakuten spent almost all of his daydream time thinking about him, what it would be like if they were to have sex, and how that action might come about. And it would be so good, he'd want to quit his job and live in the bedroom with him. He'd hand the company off to Bishamonten – okay no, he'd merely take a few days off, no sense losing his lovely, hard-earned power.

He leaned back in his chair and fantasized about his object of lust. They'd be in his mansion, all alone, playing chess and of course he'd be winning. Then suddenly Ashuraou would yell, "I can't take it anymore!" and turn the chessboard over in a manly display of passion.

"Arthur," he'd say fervently, throwing himself on bended knee before his best friend, "Arthur, I know you have a fiancée, but I _love _you! I know you're straight, but all I want is for you to take me! Oh please, please can I be your obedient little manwhore?"

"Oh but Karl," Taishakuten would purr, leaning forwards and running a lock of Ashuraou's hair through his fingers, "I'm _not _straight. So yes, yes you _can _be my obedient little manwhore. In fact, you can do that right now."

Or…

They'd be alone in Ashuraou's house, his annoying son sent to a sleepover that he'd be getting teased at, and Ashuraou would be drunk. He'd throw a "You're my pal" arm around Taishakuten and giggle, "Hey Arthur, I'm horny. Too bad there's no women around, huh?"

"But Karl," Taishakuten would say brightly, able to hold his liquor, "you don't have to have a woman to get off. In fact, I feel horny too. Why don't you strip and blow me, and then I can show you how fun man-on-man can be? It's wonderful, I can promise you that."

"I dunno," Ashuraou would say, even as he leaned in for a passionate kiss, "I've never been anyone's submissive before."

"Oh, but I've been in charge before," Taishakuten would assure him, after they'd shared that passionate kiss. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I promise to be very gentle with you, Karl. I'd never harm you… unless of course you _wanted _me to."

"Okay," Ashuraou would agree, ripping his shirt open as Taishakuten did the same. "Let's do that then."

Or…

Taishakuten would be in his office, making even more money. And then Ashuraou would walk in, lock the door, climb onto Taishakuten's desk, grab his tie, and tell him, being very forceful and masculine, "Arthur, I want you to do me so hard I won't be able to sit down for a month."

Or he'd grab him and pull him into a coatroom somewhere, and beg, "Bang me, I need it!" Or he'd tackle him on the golf course and plead, "I want to be your catamite!"

Yes, there was a pattern here. Taishakuten wouldn't be on the bottom, why would he? He'd been the dominant male with the one man he'd slept with, although he _had _once blown someone else at a drunken frat party (he was very thankful the guy hadn't remembered it in the morning). He was the boss, he should be the boss in bed too.

Sure, most gay men switched it up, except for maybe Charles Vahyu, he sneered, who was so girly anyway that he probably liked playing the woman. But Taishakuten wasn't that flaming stereotype, and he would be superior with Ashuraou, who of course might wish for a change but would do it to make Taishakuten happy. Nope, he would never have to deal with any pain or uncomfortable things, because he was the manly man despite his pretty face and mandiva hair.

Actually, Ashuraou was manlier if one were going by pure looks: his eyes weren't long-lashed, his hair was only a little below shoulder-length in comparison to Taishakuten's own calf-length hair, and he tended not to stroll around in his home only wearing pants.

Yes, Taishakuten was more of an exhibitionist than Hakuryuu and Seiryuu Waters would ever be. Shashi's rocker neighbors tended to think going topless was rebellious and edgy, while Taishakuten did it because he thought he was the sexiest thing in the world. It was a change from his snappy suits, but boy, he loved catching sight of his ripped reflection in full-length mirrors.

It was really too bad business required professional attire, he often lamented inside his head. And it wasn't like he could go out on the town wearing leather pants and jackboots only, since he had to keep his image up. But the first thing he did, whenever he got home, was to lose half of his clothing and tell himself, "Who's a stud, Arthur? Yes, _you _are."

"Sir?" Hanranya's voice said, breaking into his self-admiration. "Nina's back."

"Tell her to come in," he ordered, clicking his computer back from "sleep" mode. It wouldn't do to let anyone see him not constantly working.

Souma walked in, bearing the file she had been told to fetch, and told him, "Sir, I told Rob to have this ready by one, but the idiot hadn't had it prepared. He quickly pulled it together, which I think means it's not as complete as it should be."

"I will tell Rob that he has one more strike, and then he's out," Taishakuten replied matter-of-factly. "What kind of slipshod business does he think we're running here? If he can't step it up, he will be beheaded on the chopping block of pink slips."

Taishakuten liked his violent metaphors. He and Koumokuten would give each other proud smiles when one or the other of them came up with a good one, but everybody else was unnerved by that. Souma personally thought (and she was correct on both counts) that such a thing was an indicator of a disturbed mind.

Souma also thought that Taishakuten should be executed by firing squad, because he was the most awful person she'd ever had the misfortune to meet. Why was she his assistant? Because her dad had been before her, and when Taishakuten had driven him well past the point of a breakdown, this was the only way she could keep poor Orville Souma from being blacklisted. She'd stepped into her dad's shoes out of a sense of duty, and to protect him.

Orville had required hospitalization, where the doctors had emphatically told his family, "Do _not _let him go back into business. It would trigger a relapse, and you'd find him naked in his closet drawing on the walls with crayons again. Retirement would save him, and just to be safe, keep all talk of business for when he's not around."

So really, the blacklisting wouldn't have actually mattered. But it would have sullied Orville's good name, because he'd been a phenomenal assistant prior to that. He'd worked for Taishakuten when the CEO was just the head of Expansion, but six years of Taishakuten the absolute god-king of Tenkai Corporation had finally made him snap.

But Souma held out hope that she wouldn't work for Taishakuten forever. Surely one fine day he would slip up, and there would be a plot to unseat him, which she'd join. Once he was sitting in prison for that hit to the politician made to look like a car crash Souma would be free, and then she could work for the new CEO, unless of course it was Bishamonten or Koumokuten, in which case she might just retire. Either way, she'd have won. And then, she would no longer have to pin her boss's picture to her punching bag.

.

A couple hours after Taishakuten had fantasized about Ashuraou, Ashuraou was driving to pick his son up from the Extended Day program at Mokona Apapa Elementary Academy. It had been a good day at work, training future police officers in weaponry. Ashuraou was often called "the best weapons instructor in the history of the world," and he probably was too.

He'd also been a legend when he was just a regular cop. After saving a city bus full of citizens, killing a drugged-out sociopath before he could kill anyone else, and talking no less than four would-be suicides out of ending their lives, he'd become quite the celebrity, with women clamoring to be his lover. Unfortunately one of them had gotten knocked up, left him with the baby, and gone off to Reno to be a stripper. But that was just fine with him, because Ashura was the light of his life, and the most important being in the world to him by _far_.

He was so important that his father had switched from "beat cop deity" to "weapons instruction deity," because it was a little safer. Yes there had been some close calls with nervous rookies, but Ashuraou made sure to _always _wear the protective gear. And he had a better chance of surviving an accidental shot than a deliberate shot to kill, which criminals had no problem trying.

And just because Ashuraou was off the beat, it didn't mean he still didn't save the day. He had a sixth sense for danger, and always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. His latest adventure had involved saving a terrified Sikh couple from a biker gang with his black belt in ninjitsu, to their fervent thanks and the media's adoration.

"Karl," the chief of police had said to him the next day, "if we had ten more of you, our city would be the safest city in the state."

"Daddy," Ashura had praised, "you're so awesome! You're like Superman, except you can't fly and you don't wear your underwear over your pants."

And guess which compliment had meant more? Yup. Who cared what the chief of police said, Ashura thought his dad was awesome, and that made it so. Ashuraou valued Ashura's opinion over most everybody else's, which was really not a good thing. After all, the kid was only six.

Ashuraou would do anything for his son. He'd taken vacation days to take Ashura to Wuddles World, he'd bought him super-expensive toys, he'd played catch and helped with math homework and all that jazz. And he really would do _anything_, even be Ashura's kindergarten teacher's manwhore for a day so Ashura could get extra juice and cookies.

Ashuraou winced a bit at that memory; Ms. McClusky had had some "control" issues. But hey, for his son nothing was taboo! Ashura _deserved _twice as many Oreos and cups of apple juice as his classmates. Thankfully Ms. McClusky had been let go for this year, so he no longer had to deal with her, yay. Ashura's current (first grade) teacher, Mr. Patterson, was a jovial man who was impervious to pleas to play favorites, but at least he didn't keep hinting that Ashuraou might net his son more perks if he were to submit again.

He pulled into the parking lot right near the door, shut his car off, dutifully locked it, and walked into the school, where the receptionist waved at him and a teacher in the halls smiled, "Hello, Karl. Lovely day, isn't it?"

When he reached the gym, Ashura was waiting for him, wearing his "Transformers" t-shirt and shorts, even though it was getting to be autumn now. He was carrying a heavy backpack, stuffed with snack wrappers because he couldn't leave food alone, and his dad made sure to provide him with lots of it.

"Hi Daddy! Guess what? Today in art class, Nizell glued his finger up his nose!" Ashura excitedly shared as Ashuraou signed him out. "He had to go to the nurse's and _everything_, and he started crying too."

"And that should just go to show that he shouldn't be picking his nose," Ashuraou said firmly, taking his son's hand and leading him out.

"No, it was a dare," Ashura explained. "Shelby dared him to do it, and he thought the glue wouldn't set after three minutes. But it did! The funniest part was how Mr. Patterson didn't notice what he was doing for _three_ _whole_ _minutes_."

"Nizell is not only foolish, he's unsanitary," Ashuraou lectured, unlocking the car. "Son, don't _you _ever try something that dumb." Standard parenting fare – your child is good but tells you about something a peer did, and they get a talking-to anyway.

They had a good ride home, listening only to age-appropriate music. Unlike many parents who would play Eminem with their impressionable small children around, Ashuraou switched the station whenever he heard an objectionable phrase or the opening notes of a song he knew was bad. Frankly Ashura was getting tired of Selina Gomez and such, and couldn't _wait _until he could hear more mature artists other places than his friends' houses.

When they got home, and after Ashura's snack, his father told him, "I went to the pet store and got Fluffy more chew sticks, so now she can stop chewing on the bars of her cage."

Fluffy was Ashura's gerbil. She was gray and very sociable, unlike some gerbils who were never handled. No, Ashura loved Fluffy, and took her out multiple times a day. She was very tame and never ran away, unless of course she was on the floor and saw something interesting. He had made a mini-maze for her out of paper towel tubes, toilet paper tubes, and cardboard boxes, which he was able to switch around so she never got bored. She had it much better than the majority of gerbils owned by little kids, as he made sure to tell her whenever he cleaned her cage.

"And," Ashuraou went on, "I got you a stuffed gerbil too! They had them by the registers, and I know how much you love toys."

"I do love toys," his offspring said seriously. "Besides you and Fluffy, toys are my favorite things in the world."

His toy chest was bursting at the seams, he barely had enough room to sleep in his bed with all the stuffed animals on it, and his shelves were piled high with action figures, more stuffed animals, Lego sets, and promotional Happy Meal and such toys, but he wasn't satisfied. Having been given what he wanted all his life, he had no concept whatsoever of "enough." This could all be traced back to Ashuraou, who in turn had no concept of "spoiling my child." All those observers who warned him that rewarding his son for a blowup with food/more loot would lead to trouble just didn't appreciate his love for his little boy.

And it wasn't like Ashura was a total brat, not at all. He was actually very sweet and polite, just expected to get what he wanted all the time from his father. And he _did _share, very well in fact. Other kids just loved coming over to his house, where they were fed snacks galore and able to have a turn with all sorts of cool toys.

So Ashuraou handed over the gerbil plushie, and Ashura went upstairs to show Fluffy. When he picked her hidey-log up, she blinked sleepily up at him, twitched her nose, and yawned, showing those iconic little rodent teeth that necessitated something to constantly chew on.

"Look what Daddy gave me!" he told her proudly, waving the plushie in her face. "I'm gonna call it Fluffy Jr. Except it's bigger than you," he realized with a frown.

What a dilemma. He screwed his face up and thought really hard for another good, appropriate name. "Fluffy Two"? "Mega-Fluffy"? Ooh, what about –

"Its name is Die Arthur!" he decided happily, pumping his little fist in the air. "Except we can't tell Daddy that, because he'll yell at me for being mean to his butthead best friend," he muttered, scowling.

No, he didn't like Taishakuten in the least. Taishakuten was always being nasty to him in little ways, ways that Ashuraou never noticed or thought Ashura was lying when he told him about them. Although he'd never laid a hand on him, Taishakuten had called Ashura an abomination, a mistake, a brat, a whiner, and spoiled rotten. Why? Well, besides the fact that Taishakuten was like that to almost everyone, he resented poor Ashura for taking Ashuraou's attention away from him. Before the kid had come along, Ashuraou had spent much more time with his best friend, and now he and Ashura were almost always a unit. How dare the weapons instructor be a responsible dad?

Well, it didn't matter, Ashura thought smugly. One day Taishakuten would get murdered by one of his employees, and Ashura would never have to deal with him again, he was convinced of that. It was only a matter of time.

.

The next day, Taishakuten strode into work and greeted his secretary with, "Ah, Kuyou. I won't be available from two-forty-five to three-thirty, so redirect any annoying calls or visitors."

"I knew that," she told him flatly. "Contrary to what you believe, I do look at your schedule, sir."

He smirked and replied, in an exceedingly condescending tone, "Good for _you_. Perhaps you are not so completely useless to me after all."

With that he went into his office, and she glared at his back as if she could pierce his heart with her gaze. He didn't care, because he was more than a match for her. He paid her much less than Hanranya, a deficit that was pretty unfair. After all, she was better than her twin sister, and even with the attitude, she was a secretarial catch.

Kuyou Seering… an amusing little fool. She despised him with all her heart, and he disliked her too, mostly because that bitch had the nerve to be in love with Ashuraou as well. How dare she?! Ashuraou belonged to _Taishakuten_ and not some half-blind slut, never mind that Taishakuten had no real claim on Ashuraou besides "best friend," and Kuyou was the farthest thing from a slut you could get.

Kuyou had loved Ashuraou since the day she'd laid eyes on him. It had been July 24th, 2001, a day she remembered well. She'd just been hired alongside her sister as Taishakuten's secretary a week ago, and had been thinking to herself that maybe she should find another job, because her new boss was terrible on so many levels. And then the door had opened, and the most handsome man she'd ever seen had walked in, with a brilliant smile on his face and wearing his police uniform.

"Hello," he'd greeted cheerfully. "May I see Arthur, please?"

"Mr. Taishakuten is unavailable," she'd replied, a prepared response given to anyone who wasn't in her appointment book, and then she'd added, "But Officer, I'll call him right now and tell him you're here. What's he done?" she'd asked hopefully.

Maybe Taishakuten had been involved in a murder. Maybe Taishakuten had gotten caught on one of his shady dealings. Maybe Taishakuten was secretly a serial killer, and this brave public servant was here to take him in, all by his manly self. Maybe –

"Oh no, I'm not here on police business," the brave public servant had quickly assured her. "I'm on my lunch break, and thought I'd come by and see where he works now. I'm his best friend, Karl Ashuraou."

She'd almost said, "Sure, go ahead in," but firmly reminded herself that this could all be a clever ruse. So she'd smiled at him and replied, "I'm Kuyou. Just let me check with Mr. Taishakuten."

"Of course. That's smart of you to do that, you never know who's lying," Ashuraou had told her seriously, yet with a smile of his own.

Soon she had been assured that yes, the handsome man with the black hair and golden eyes was indeed Taishakuten's BFF. Unfortunately for the CEO and fortunately for Kuyou, Taishakuten had been in the middle of a phone conference and couldn't see his pal just yet. But that had been okay, because Ashuraou had just talked to the secretary.

He'd smiled, "So Kuyou, are you a new secretary or did you work for the former CEO and kept your job?"

"I'm new," she had replied, and hedged, "Mr. Taishakuten is a very, um, _charismatic _person, isn't he?"

"_That's _the truth. He's got to be the strongest person on the planet, I think," Ashuraou had said seriously. "Although I must admit, he does oftentimes scare people. For example, when we were in college, one of his professors kept stuttering around him, which was bad because Arthur sat in the front row of the lecture hall."

They'd talked about Taishakuten and Ashuraou in school, and as they had, Kuyou had realized that the sudden flutter in her chest when Ashuraou had walked in had been no mere casual attraction. Here was the man she'd decided she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, but of course she hadn't been able to just say that yet. No, she had to find a way to interact with him more, and once they knew each other well enough she would confess.

Oblivious to this, Ashuraou had been saying, "My degree in criminal justice prepared me well for being a police officer. I hope it doesn't scare you that I have my gun with me, by the way. Don't be alarmed, the safety's on."

"I'm not scared," she'd told him honestly. "If you weren't a police officer I would be, but as it is I'm _glad _you have it."

"I wish I didn't have to," he'd responded. "Every night I pray the world wakes up, and we begin to really love our fellow man instead of committing crimes against him, often over the least little thing. I'm not saying we should all disarm, because if we did the criminals would run rampant, but I wish we didn't _need _our weapons."

Kuyou had agreed, "Yes, that's exactly what I think. There's no sense trying for gun control if other people are going to be running around with them illegally and threatening the rest of us anyway. At the same time, I wish it hadn't gotten to this point, and fervently hope that someday we'll all see that we need to get along."

"Exactly. To change the subject, you'll probably be seeing a lot of me," he'd told her with yet another smile. "Not every day, but Arthur and I like to go out to lunch and show each other around our workplaces."

Kuyou had then found a very compelling reason for staying at this job: she could see Ashuraou when he visited. Perhaps at some point he would give her his number or suggest going out for coffee, and once he had realized how perfect she was for him, _then _she could quit because she'd be seeing him anyway.

It was just her luck that he had never picked up on how much she loved him. She'd kept hinting that maybe they should have lunch sometime, but right about then Taishakuten would appear, almost as if he'd been listening (he always had been), and demand Ashuraou's attention.

For eleven years, Kuyou had pined away feelings for Ashuraou. Now, in 2012, she had become so ingrained in her habits that Hanranya's advice of "Say or do something to let him know that" was always rationalized away. Poor Kuyou… maybe if she'd gotten her act together, she would have landed herself the job of Ashura's stepmother. Ashuraou quite liked her, and actually thought she was very attractive, he just had no idea whatsoever that she would have jumped in front of a bullet for him.

.

The next day after school, Ashura had a special friend over. Not a peer, but a good friend nonetheless. Nathan Ryuu, wearing a shirt that said "Super Lucky," had driven his car over to Ashura's house and greeted his dad with, "Hi Mr. Ashuraou. Here, my dad sent over some cookies and that autograph for your friend."

"Anastasia will be more than happy to have her TV idol's autograph, and _I _am more than happy to have Mr. Mom's cookies," Ashuraou grinned, accepting both the note card and the covered plate. "Ashura's in the rec room, but if you call he should come out."

Yes, Ryuu's dad's show, "Mr. Mom's House," was a smash success. Not only had Alexander bought himself a new car, he'd handed the old one off to his son, score! And when they went out in public, more often than not somebody stopped him and asked if that was who he was. It was kinda cool, even though some men still gave him weird looks.

After Ashura had come up and been fed no less than four macadamia-chocolate chunk cookies, he and his pal headed back to the rec room. Ryuu knew his way around most of this house pretty well, having been over here a number of times. Conversely, Ashura knew pretty much the whole layout of Ryuu's house, also having visited numerous times. They were buddies, even though Ryuu still thought the younger boy was spoiled and rather naïve.

"So what've you been up to lately, Ashura?" he asked as he settled down into a beanbag chair. "Fluffy still doing well?"

"She's doing great," Ashura assured him. "And in school, we're learning about volcanoes! Did you know there are three basic types? Cone, shield, and composite," he recited, being very interested in things that could shoot lava and destroy towns.

"Can you give me an example of each?" Ryuu asked in half-jest, and was startled when Ashura responded with, "Sure can! Mauna Loa in Hawai'i is a shield, and Mt. Fuji is a composite. This one called Parícutin in Mexico is a cone, and it started erupting in some guy's cornfield! That was in 1943, and it erupted for _nine whole years_."

"Whoa, looks like _somebody's _on his way to becoming a volcanologist," Ryuu complimented, impressed by this.

"No, I want to be a firefighter," Ashura said seriously. "But maybe if that doesn't work out I'll be a combination volcanologist/actor/policeman. Or a wealthy playboy who doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to, and I can study volcanoes in my spare time."

"Right, right," Ryuu muttered, thinking to himself that kids said the darndest things. "Anyway, my dad says next summer we're _going _to Hawai'i. If you want, I can take some pictures of the volcanoes there to show you when I get back."

"That'd be great, Nathy!" Ashura said happily. "And Daddy says _we're_ going to go to Disneyland this winter break for vacation! I'll bring _you_ something cool back, like a… a dragon-form Maleficent action figure." Both Ashura and Ryuu, like most people who thought "Sleeping Beauty's" heroine Aurora was boring and wimpy, much preferred the super-cool evil witch.

"That would be great too," Ryuu agreed. "Although not a shirt, okay? It might look like a girl's shirt, and I don't wanna wear one of those. The jocks would tease me like nobody's business," he muttered. He could see it now: they would take one look at his purple and black Maleficent shirt and smirk, "Shrimpy is gay like his homemaker daddy!"

On the flip side, his cousin Seiryuu would take one look at it and grin, "Dude. Maleficent was super-bad. Where can I get one? You know she's one of my favorite Disney characters, besides Mulan and Captain Amelia from 'Treasure Planet.' "

Ryuu and Ashura then decided to watch "Sleeping Beauty," and make cracks about it. The dancing with woodland creatures? Ashura sniffed, "She needs glasses if she thinks that's a prince." The three fairy godmothers? Ryuu muttered, "No wonder Maleficent hates them." Prince Philip? "He's boring, and why does he love a lady he only met a little while ago?" Ashura whined.

The "Touch the spindle" scene? They both cheered and yelled, "Yeah!" when Aurora keeled over. The capture of Prince Philip? Ashura sneered, "He's got no chance, realistically." The transformation of the witch into the dragon? Ryuu grinned, "If this wasn't a Disney movie, she'd have totally kicked his ass – his butt," he hastily amended for Ashura's benefit.

Once Maleficent had fallen, Ashura muttered, "Can we turn it off now? The rest of this is sappy, and Daddy always makes me watch the whole movie as a lesson on 'evil never wins and good will always triumph.' "

"Of course we can," Ryuu smirked, hitting the "power" button. "It just goes to show… Disney's priorities are screwy."

.

That Sunday, Taishakuten found himself leading Shashi into his mansion, having already taken her out for an expensive dinner. He was a bit perturbed that she demanded such a thing so frequently, and maybe she was more of a gold-digger than he'd thought. But oh well, he could afford it, and it made him look straight.

So too did Shashi staying the night. It had happened three times before, only after their engagement though. And it had always been a production: violin music on the stereo, silk sheets, wine on the nightstand, and long talks of "Oh Arthur/Shashi dearest, when we're married, my life will be complete! Let's make love, you studly sex god/goddess-like bombshell."

"Arthur," she tittered as he gallantly took her wrap, "I can't _wait _until I get to move into your new mansion."

Taishakuten's new mansion had been purchased but not moved into just yet. It was a sprawling, almost compound-esque home, fenced and with not only a pool and home theater, but a basketball court, a whirlpool, a hot tub, and a ballroom. He planned to move in by December, and when Shashi married him in April, she and Tenou would join him. Was it silly, having three people and at first just one person living in such a place? Well of course it was, they could have easily gotten by with a mansion half the size of it. But Taishakuten wouldn't have been satisfied unless he was living in a literal palace, so he'd probably end up upgrading in maybe five years.

Until then, he had this merely extravagant mansion, and the even more extravagant one to move into. But oh well, it was still big enough for him to feel proud of himself. A psychologist might have muttered that he was compensating for something, what they had no idea, but Taishakuten had no such thoughts.

He brought Shashi upstairs to the rock star master bedroom, with the silk sheets and the wine chilling in the mini-bar. And after pouring two glasses and turning on some Barry White, he got naked as she did the same.

He recalled that she had looked somewhat disappointed when seeing him sans clothing for the first time, but surely that was because she secretly had a thing for chest hair (Taishakuten thought it was uncouth and religiously waxed his body, as did most of the major male players in Tenkai Corporation). He assured himself that it couldn't be because he didn't measure up to former lovers, and he wholeheartedly believed it. After all, he was the CEO, the king, a god amongst the mortals of the world, which meant that he was bigger than everybody else, including Bishamonten. Even Zouchouten! It had to be true, because he was so superior in every way.

As Taishakuten screwed Shashi, he thought of screwing Ashuraou instead. As she was screwed, Shashi pretended it was Bishamonten doing it, which was rather hard because Taishakuten wasn't very considerate, and Bishamonten had been _most _considerate. But oh well, what she needed to do was get used to Taishakuten, and surely in time she could train him to be a bit more receptive to her needs.

Fat chance. Taishakuten did not _like _this part of female anatomy, or those bulbous sacks of fat on her chest. No, he preferred flat, muscled, hard pecs and six-packs, and male genitalia, and the male –

Well, maybe sometime he could convince her to play the submissive man, which might be better. Sure she'd probably hate it because she didn't have a prostate, but who cared? It was all about Arthur Taishakuten, because that was how the world worked.

Unaware of what he had in store for her, Shashi breathed, "Oh Arthur, you're so good," when it was over. She sipped some wine, and then added, "We should make sure we have a nice big mirror in the new bedroom, don't you think, dear?"

_Oh hell no, I can only manage this because I can stare over your head at nothing, _he thought, but chuckled, "My, that sounds decadent. We'll have to see what can be worked out."

They made small talk for a while as they finished the wine, and finally Taishakuten yawned and murmured, "Well, you know I have to get up early tomorrow, it's a workday. Just let me turn off the sound system and the lights, and we can go to sleep."

"Of course, darling."

Taishakuten smiled as he got up, and gritted his teeth as he walked away. Oh, what he would give to have Ashuraou here instead of his fiancée. He wouldn't want to go to sleep at all, then. And if he did, he'd make sure to wake up extra early so they could have more sex before they went off to work.

But with the music turned off, he climbed back into bed, rolled over as casually as he could, and drifted off while making sure not to think of Ashuraou. If he did he might mutter something incriminating, so instead he thought of bashing some skulls in the stock market.

While Taishakuten slept and had sweet dreams of slaughtering villagers as a fantasy general, Shashi got up out of bed and looked through his drawers for the hell of it. She wasn't tired yet, and lying there staring at the ceiling tended to make her grumpy. So first, the sock drawer: all designer and meticulously organized. Then the underwear drawer, and ditto. In fact, all his drawers were designer and organized, even his tiny collection of t-shirts.

And his walk-in closet held the suits and ties that had altogether cost more than many people made in a year. Plus the shoes, and same thing. Little dollar signs floating above her head, she fantasized about what _her _walk-in closet would be like in the new mansion. She'd get rid of all but her favorite current clothes, and buy herself new ones with Taishakuten's money. Maybe she'd get a scandalous red dress like the one she used to have, before she'd run off to New York and sold it because it… reminded her… of Bish…a…monten.

Crud. Ooh, those memories kept popping up at the most inopportune times. It was all well and good to think of him while in the pursuit of getting off, because no matter what she'd said, Taishakuten wasn't particularly good. But thinking of his second-in-command when not on her back was problematic.

She glared at Taishakuten's second tuxedo and decided to forgo the red dress, thanks.

.

That weekend, it was time for the executive company picnic, at the Deity Castle State Park. Edward Varuna, who had suffered at the Marketing picnic at the Mosquito Lake State Park, was relieved that he'd be going to a better one this time. Sure his boss Koumokuten would still be there, but the odds of his pal Vahyu ignoring him in favor of his devoted love slaves were low, mostly because there wouldn't _be _any potential love slaves.

Taishakuten rolled up in his custom Mercedes, fashionably late. He was wearing designer clothes (but of course) and a pair of silver sunglasses that made him look like a movie star. Ah yes, how sweet it was to be the best-looking man in the bunch (supposedly).

"Hey sir!" the worst-looking one called, his pyro second wife hanging on his arm with her boobs hanging out of her halter top. "Glad you're here, the party can't start without you!"

"No it can't, Xavier," Taishakuten agreed, as Tenou and Shashi came towards him with smiles and kisses, the latter in Shashi's case only. "I have arrived, you may commence with the festivities."

"Hello Arthur dearest," Shashi cooed, as Tenou greeted, "Hi Arthur!"

Ah, Tenou. Taishakuten liked him well enough, but honestly would have been happier if Shashi hadn't come with any offspring. He disliked kids, and while Tenou was a young man who was mature and intelligent, Taishakuten planned to pretty much ignore him once he was officially his stepson. After all, it wasn't like he was _his _son.

For his part, Tenou liked Taishakuten much more than Taishakuten liked him. He was of course a bit intimidated by the CEO and planned to never disagree with him on anything, but he admired his strength and brains. His nasty ways of treating people? Not so much, but Tenou sure wasn't going to confront him about it, ever.

Not to mention he was starved for some paternal affection. Oh, he had Zouchouten and Bishamonten, both of which were unofficial mentors, but they weren't his _dad_, he thought obliviously as Bishamonten smiled at him. But Taishakuten would be the father he'd always wanted, right? They'd do male-bonding activities and have heartfelt talks, surely.

Poor Tenou. If ever a young man was in for a disappointing surprise, it was him.

And now, he was also in for some stalking, as Tamara traipsed over and simpered, "Tenou, come sit by me for food! Hi, Dr. Prince and Mr. Taishakuten," she greeted cheerily, trying to get the mom and future stepdad on her side.

Shashi sighed, "Hello, Tamara." She didn't _like _Koumokuten's daughter, not one bit.

"Yes, hello Tamara," Taishakuten smirked. He thought that girl was a brat, and was amused by the way Koumokuten had encouraged her to go after Tenou. Oh, that Koumokuten, always trying to get more power one way or the other.

He thought it was even funnier that the Marketing VP had fallen into a trap of his own making. He no longer wanted his daughter to date the guy, for reasons Taishakuten hadn't yet figured out. But it was too late, because Tamara was obsessed with Tenou, and no matter how much her dad hinted that she should give up on him, she loudly insisted that he was the only man for her in the world.

As Tenou ran off to use the restroom, AKA avoid Tamara, Zouchouten wandered over with a beer in hand and smiled, "What a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky! It matches Ellen's eyes," he said fondly, glancing over at Ellen Karura, his lovely assistant/girlfriend.

Zouchouten, it must be said, was on his way to making someone snap. Whenever he could, he mentioned Karura. His associates had learned that larimar was her favorite gemstone, she used to play soccer in middle school, and she'd gotten a perfect SAT score on math, among all sorts of other things.

You weren't safe around him. You could be talking about tea, and he'd jump in with, "Ellen drinks Earl Grey." You could be muttering how hot it was today, and he'd inform you that, "Ellen doesn't like the heat either." You could be asking him if he wanted a deadline extended, and he'd reply, "No. Thanks to Ellen's hard work, we're on track."

"Yes, it is a nice day," Taishakuten agreed. "Aaron, go tell Victor to stop juggling that lighter fluid bottle so close to the grills."

Zouchouten turned and looked, and yes: Victor Kujaku was cheerfully juggling his keys, his empty soda can, and the lighter fluid, as James Yasha glared and folded his arms, annoyed at such shenanigans. Bishamonten's secretary didn't care, just sent his undercover lover a carefree grin and sang, "Toldja I could do it, didn't I?"

Before Zouchouten had to stomp on over there and bellow, Karura appeared, snatching the lighter fluid out of the air and snapping, "Are you _trying _to cause an explosion?!"

Beaming proudly, Zouchouten moved off to compliment the defender of public safety, leaving Shashi to sniff, "That man is stupid, Arthur. You should fire him!"

"I am _not _going to fire Victor," Taishakuten said coldly. "He is important, and he amuses me. He may act like a five-year-old, but if you get past that you'll find an almost scarily intelligent man, one who I would never want to annoy, that's how smart and secretly powerful he is."

Shashi was stunned. Taishakuten, Mr. "I'm a God, Bow Before Me Subjects," afraid of a _secretary? _Well, maybe not _afraid_, but wary of. That was odd, because he wasn't even wary of his Senior VPs, all of which were high rollers and in one case gunning for a leg up on the competition.

Unaware of all that, Kujaku was whining, "Aw, Ellen! I wasn't hurting anybody! And by the way, where's your sister? I thought she was gonna be here."

"She has a cold," Zouchouten answered for Karura. "She was very disappointed that she couldn't come, but there's always the picnics next year. You know, for R & D and this executive one."

Soon after that, Tenou came back, only to be latched onto by Tamara again as Souma watched with a look of pity. The teenage girl thrust a soda into Tenou's hand, made him take a cookie, and followed him like an attention-starved puppy. Which made it hard for him to talk to anybody else, because nobody besides Koumokuten wanted to deal with her if they didn't have to.

As Tamara pursued Tenou, Bishamonten steadfastly avoided interacting with Shashi, which was easy because she was doing the same thing to him. It would just mess everything up, getting into a conversation and having that conversation turn into reminiscing on the good old days. Sure, she'd _like _to remember the time they'd gone on a romantic picnic all by themselves and ended up making love on the picnic blanket, but it would just lead to trouble.

So she smiled at her pal Aguni and tittered, "Have I told you that I had another wedding dress fitting yesterday? It's going to be the gown to end all gowns! When I walk down that aisle, the world will know what a stunning goddess I am, and that my husband is so rich he can afford something like that."

"I'm sure it's lovely," Aguni smiled, watching Bishamonten crush an empty beer can with a studiously neutral expression on his face. "You know, I dress up in mine sometimes and greet Xavier at the door, and then we play honeymoon."

Shashi's expression became fixedly pleasant, to cover up the automatic cringe such a subject brought up. Oh God, Aguni was intelligent and fun everywhere else, but she had _baaad _taste in men. Shashi actually wondered if Koumokuten had blackmailed her into marrying him. Maybe she'd set the wrong thing on fire, and he'd struck a deal not to go to the authorities if she agreed to be his wife?

No, but Shashi wouldn't have understood the attraction at all. On the flip side, Aguni couldn't understand why Shashi found Taishakuten attractive either. She liked and respected him, but he was a bit too sociopathic even for her.

The sociopath held court at the head of the picnic table, made everyone else fetch him what he wanted, and basically hogged the spotlight. Everybody was used to that, though, and while Yasha had a brief fantasy of squirting mustard into his eyes, he pushed it back down with the ease that comes from lots of practice.

Hanranya, relegated to a different table with Kuyou, observed her object of slavish devotion smile at his fiancée, and mentally muttered, _Send her to Patagonia, Taishakuten. And then sweep __me__ into your manly arms, because I'll be a better wife than she would! After all, she's manipulative and I'm not. Why, she'll insist on a prenup, and I wouldn't! _

_Because if you ever divorced me, I'd kill myself anyway, _she thought proudly, unaware that such a thing wasn't good in the least. A cry for help? Nope, it was a mark of how much she loved him!

Taishakuten, feeling her eyes on his back, turned and gave her a half-smile, then went right back to ignoring her. Idiot… she was useful, but boy, if she wasn't, he'd have fired her long ago because her dogged devotion was getting annoying.

.

Two months later, it was November. The sky was gray, the wind was bitingly cold, the vegetation was all brown and bare, and Taishakuten approved of such bleakness. It made other people depressed, and that was only a good thing.

Well, save for poor Ashuraou, who every year upped his Vitamin D supplements, hauled out his full-spectrum light, and wondered why he didn't live in the southwestern United States, where the sun was always shining and it was warm even during winter, for the most part. Taishakuten pitied him, and spent hours daydreaming about whisking him away to Tuscon, Arizona, where they would lounge about by the pool wearing nothing but towels.

So to take his mind off the weather, he'd invited him over for dinner and chess. They often played chess, and were well-matched. After all, Taishakuten thought with a smug smile, it was the game of kings, so no wonder he was so good at it.

Dinner would be pheasant, prepared by Taishakuten's kitchen staff, who had been instructed to make the food and go home, thus making it look like he'd made the pheasant himself. He'd pull it out of the oven, carve it with enthusiasm, and present such a delicacy to Ashuraou. It would of course have been better if he'd shot it himself, but Taishakuten had no desire to wear camo and spend hours outdoors on the mere _chance_ he might be able to kill a member of the animal kingdom.

_Karl likes pheasant, _he thought with a smug smile. _See how I cater to you, Karl? Naturally it's only fair that you return the favor in some way, interpret that as you will._

Just then, his doorbell rang, and he moved over to answer it. And yes, it was Ashuraou, pink-cheeked from the cold and wearing his overcoat, greeting, "Hey Arthur. Can you believe how dark it gets, so early? I hate it."

"Oh, don't whine over the earth's standard rotation," Taishakuten ordered, letting him in and then taking his coat. "Honestly, every year you act like winter is unnatural. It's part of the cycle of life, and it only lasts for five months or so."

"It feels like it lasts for much longer," Ashuraou grumbled. "And summer's always over so fast. Anyway, at least Christmas is coming soon, that takes my mind off the dreariness."

Taishakuten thought about making a comment about how Ashura turned into Super Brat when it was Christmastime, making thirty-page lists to Santa and gobbling down treats, but desisted. No sense going for conflict if he didn't have to, and the less he thought about the child, the better.

Ashura was on a big, exciting sleepover tonight, one that would entail going to school the next day right from his friend Elijah's house. Was this a bad idea, having two excited little boys stay up on a school night? Sure it was, but Ashura had insisted that they'd go to bed at a decent time and that he really wanted this, so Ashuraou had convinced Elijah's parents that this was an okay thing. He was such a smooth talker, good at convincing people to do things they didn't want to. Elijah's mom had tried to say, "Well, if you think it's fine, have it at _your_ house," but Ashuraou had turned on the charm and soon gotten her and her husband to agree to hosting this little bad idea. He should have been a politician, really.

As Taishakuten served him the pheasant, he smiled and complimented, "You're so good to me. Is Shashi impressed by your cooking skills?"

Taishakuten, whose heart had skipped a beat at "You're so good to me," managed to rally and reply, "Why yes, she is. You know her, she thinks I can do no wrong," he lied, unknowingly.

Ashuraou _liked _Shashi, and she liked him in return. He found her quite attractive, and she had more than once compared him to Taishakuten and Taishakuten had come up short. She didn't _love _him or seriously think of him that way, but boy, was he nice to look at. For his part, Ashuraou had had a couple dreams about his BFF's fiancée, but passed them off as standard masculine appreciation. She was a little too smart, anyway, and he had the sense that she was manipulative too. Well, she'd make a fine foil for Taishakuten, who seemed to be quite happy with her, he thought innocently.

After dinner, and Taishakuten bringing out the cream puffs he hadn't made either, they headed to the drawing room, bringing the plate with them. It was asking for trouble, having such a messy treat in a room with antique furniture and Persian rugs. But Taishakuten was eager to play chess, and made sure to bring out some napkins as well. If any dairy product got on his expensive swag, well, he could just buy another one of whatever it was.

Ashuraou played black. Taishakuten played white. And as they began the game, he petted his king fondly because it was a little carved metaphor for him. Never mind that the queen was more powerful, he wasn't a woman so the king was his avatar. And he was good at not getting captured.

"I hope you know how much I enjoy playing chess with you," he told his beloved, taking out a rook. "You and I are the perfect pair for this, you know."

"I think you're trying to distract me," Ashuraou smirked, studying the board. "I know you, you take every advantage you can." He took another bite of his cream puff then, frowning at the position of his queen and regretting not castling his king. Oh well.

And then, he absentmindedly licked a bit of cream off his lower lip, his eyes half-lidded in contemplation and his hair falling artfully around his face. He had never looked more like a male model, what with his unconsciously sexy pose, reminiscent of "The Thinker" but with actual clothes (darn it).

And suddenly… Taishakuten snapped. It was all too much to bear! He turned the chessboard over in a manly display of passion, howling, "I can't take it anymooore!"

Ashuraou jerked back in his chair, startled and wide-eyed. What the hell was going on?

As Taishakuten slammed to his feet and grabbed his collar, Ashuraou tried, "Arthur, what's _wrong? _I know you hate losing, but I wasn't near checkmate yet and you've just completely ruined our game! Is it something I said?"

"Karl," Taishakuten said quietly, "you're my best friend whose son I hate. We're total opposites. You think we should give peace a chance, I think wars are good for business and a thing of beauty. You're noble and forgiving, and I'm petty and hold grudges like no one else can."

Ashuraou nodded rather confusedly, wondering where Taishakuten was going with this.

Then Taishakuten grabbed him by the shoulders and yelled in his face, "But I am _obsessed _with you! I'd burn the world and kill everyone if it meant that I could call you mine! It makes no logical sense, but Karl," he yanked Ashuraou's face in closer to his, "I'm in passionate, desperate, mind-blowing _love _with you."

Ashuraou just stared with his mouth open, having had no inkling of this whatsoever. That was just how he was: possibly even more unobservant than Karura, since he'd never picked up on poor Kuyou's feelings for him either. This was a bombshell, and he was currently shell-shocked.

He made no move to resist as Taishakuten hoisted him up out of his chair and continued, "I tried to hide this. I tried to pretend I wasn't gay, but now it's gotten too hard. Because every time I see you, I feel like throwing Shashi in front of a train! She can't compare to _you_, and can't you see that I've wanted you for years?!"

"Well, I –"

"If I can't have you," Taishakuten went on dramatically, "I don't want anybody! I lie awake and dream of being with you, and every time you go away, you take a piece of me with you!"

"Isn't that a song? Arthur, you –"

"You look good enough to eat! I want to feast upon your delectable pecs, Karl!" Taishakuten continued, unaware of how incredibly disturbing that sounded. Cannibalism? Not sexy at all, despite what vore fetishists would have you believe.

"You're brilliant! You're sexy! You're desirable in every way, and if I could chain you in my bedroom and never let you even talk to anyone else ever again, I _would_. I would kill Shashi for you. I would kill Reginald and Aaron and Xavier for you too! Hell, I would kill the entire skyscraper if it made you come to me! I've never wanted anything as much as I want you! I – can't – handle… waaah!" And with that, the heartless CEO of Tenkai Corporation buried his face in Ashuraou's shoulder, and broke into tears.

As Taishakuten bawled into his shoulder, Ashuraou thought, patting his back rather absentmindedly. It took a lot of courage to admit you were gay for your best friend. And he _liked _Taishakuten, he liked him a lot.

And it wasn't like he was straight as a ruler either, honestly. He was more a protractor: straight on one side, not-straight on the other side. He'd always thought Taishakuten was exceedingly handsome, and filled out those slacks quite nicely. Plus he had occasionally thought about his closest buddy in a romantic way.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be!" Taishakuten managed, clinging to Ashuraou like he was clinging to a rock for dear life. "I can be your stereotypical, exclusive-taker mantoy! I'll wear a collar under a turtleneck! I'll grow a soul patch and pierce one ear, and cut my hair for you, Karl, if you –"

"Arthur," Ashuraou said firmly, grabbing Taishakuten's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes, "I think your hair is sexy, dammit, and your 'conquering businessman' look is gorgeous!"

"Really?" Taishakuten breathed, his tears banished to a place called "Let's Never Mention This Again." "Karl, are you saying that you love me in return?"

Ashuraou told him, "Well, I mean, maybe. I certainly find you incredibly attractive and love you as a friend an awful, awful lot. And given time, I'm sure I _will _love you just as much as you love me. Arthur, how long have you been keeping your feelings about this inside?"

"Since before Ashura was born," Taishakuten answered, then took hold of his jaw and kissed him as hard and as passionately as he could.

And _there _were the fireworks that had been missing with Shashi. Hell, these fireworks made the fireworks with George look like mere fizzling firecrackers in the rain. When Ashuraou kissed him back, this was a display reminiscent of the 2008 Beijing Olympics Opening Ceremonies.

For his part, Ashuraou was pleasantly surprised at what a good kisser Taishakuten was. Clearly he'd been more in love with him than Ashuraou had ever thought possible, but that was kinda neat. After all, they already knew they worked well together, so to take it to the next, romantic level was something that could only be good.

Five full minutes later, Ashuraou finally pulled back for good and asked breathlessly, "How are you going to tell Shashi? She'll be furious, with good reason."

"Oh, Shashi's mooning over Reginald anyway," Taishakuten said almost disgustedly. "She probably has a little shrine with old photos and love notes hidden somewhere, and fantasizes about him striding into her clinic, hoisting her onto his shoulder, and telling everyone else, 'Mine. We're off to catch up, by which I mean have wild sex. She'll be back in a week.' "

Ashuraou blinked, quite surprised by this. "Reginald? Really? Why Reginald?" he asked a bit dazedly.

"Shashi used to date Reginald," Taishakuten explained. "Tenou is actually his son, which the idiot hasn't figured out, and she'll probably never tell him. Anyway Karl," he said in the most seductive tone he could, "why don't we just –?"

"_We_ should tell him," Ashuraou said seriously, stilling Taishakuten's wandering hands. "I mean, that's kind of a big deal. And if she's still in love with him, then –"

"But where's the fun in that?" Taishakuten nearly whined. "Karl, it's amusing like nothing else! He smiles at that boy and Tenou smiles back, and it never enters either of their heads that they're looking at family. And Shashi digs herself a deeper and deeper grave the more she hides it. She told Tenou his father was a completely fictional taxi driver named Richard!"

Ashuraou's mouth hung open in appalled shock, then he muttered, "Okay, so I'm no longer feeling so bad about stealing you away from her. That's awful, to lie to your child like that."

Taishakuten paused, wondering what to say here. The obvious lead-in was, "Karl, how are you going to break this to Ashura? And if he cries, can I point and laugh?" But Shashi-bashing was fun too, because now that he no longer needed her for cover, she was a conniving slut who'd made a fool out of him at golf.

He went with Shashi-bashing.

"Yes, it's a terrible thing to do. When Reginald eventually finds out, because a secret like that can't stay hidden forever, the moronic fool will probably sue her for every cent she's got and hate her until the day he dies," Bishamonten's beloved boss said cheerfully. "What a farce, eh? And then Tenou will say something like, 'Mother, I can't ever trust you again,' and hate her too."

Ashuraou sighed, a bit annoyed by Taishakuten's callous joy at such a thing. Silly him, he'd thought Taishakuten _liked _Shashi and Bishamonten. A lot. On the other hand, that was part of the man's attractiveness: an icy, bastardly, devilishly handsome demigod, and it was ever so flattering that Taishakuten had chosen _him _as the one person he was nice to and actually cared about. So screw everybody else! They didn't matter at all!

Only Ashuraou and Taishakuten and Ashura mattered in the entire world, because they were such important people that others could be brushed aside willy-nilly, and their suffering wasn't valid in the least. They had hopes and loves and fears and dreams and in many cases were much more interesting, but all of that meant nothing! Only what Taishakuten and Ashuraou wanted should be given consideration, Ashuraou was firmly convinced of that.

…Yes, in some ways, he was just as bad as Taishakuten.

"Arthur," he finally said, "Ashura will probably throw a tantrum, but let's move in together, okay? After all, I can be your manslave better if we're in the same house. I mean, we can have breakfast in bed and bathe together, and I can wake you up for work by blowing you."

Taishakuten felt like crying with joy. How absolutely glorious, that Ashuraou was secretly a submissive! And here he'd been willing to be the man on the bottom, or at the very least take turns. But no, Ashuraou had realized that Taishakuten was the more domineering one, and yielded ever so happily.

In reality, he'd yielded gracefully, because let's face it, who wants to be the one getting screwed when you could be the one doing the screwing? But Ashuraou was smart enough to realize that Taishakuten probably would have backed out of being the uke, as it were. This way, he'd still get sex, and he had a master plan. This plan was to lure Taishakuten into letting him be in charge. Eventually he'd say, "You know Arthur, for the past two hundred times you've fucked me. And I still came from it, so you know it can't be that bad. Let's switch it up."

Then he would pounce, and possibly tie Taishakuten up by his tie or something. Ha, yes, wouldn't it be fun to do that? Bwa-ha-ha, and then he'd –

"Karl," Taishakuten breathed, interrupting his plots, "yes, let's live together! You can simply move into my new mansion with me. And bring Ashura," he added as a grumpy afterthought. But hey, they could just put the kid in one wing and have their bedroom in another.

Ashuraou gave him a "duh" look and snapped, "Of course I'll bring Ashura. I know he hates you for some odd reason, but I'm sure that if I explain how happy this will make me, he'll come around."

Taishakuten smiled, "Excellent," while thinking, _Soon comes the day that abominable little mistake learns that the world does not revolve around him. With __me__ as his father's partner, he'll be whipped into shape and shown how much more important I am in comparison to him. I'm thinking docked allowances, brussel sprouts for dinner every night, and being locked in his room whenever Karl's away._

"Let's go to bed," Ashuraou suggested brightly, looping an arm around Taishakuten's waist. "Forget chess, let's play some bedroom games instead. I can't _wait _to see you in all your glory."

Taishakuten liked being seen in all his glory, so he was more than okay with that suggestion.

.

When Elijah's mom dropped Ashura off at home the next afternoon, Ashuraou greeted him with, "Hello, son. Come into the living room, I have something very big to talk about."

"Okay," Ashura agreed, lugging his overnight bag along with him. Too bad so much of it had been taken up by a change of clothes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and pajamas, but he'd still managed to cram a number of stuffed animals in, yay.

He followed his dad into the living room, a little confused but hoping this very big thing was something good, like a major new purchase of a TV or gaming system, or maybe a convertible, that would be great! All the other kids would be jealous when Ashuraou pulled up in a cherry-red, super-sleek, chrome-rimmed convertible with Ashura at his side, both of them wearing sunglasses to look extra cool.

Ashura set his bag down and hopped onto the couch, as his father stopped in front of it and smiled, "Now, this is an incredibly im–"

"Daddy," Ashura asked in confusion, "why don't you sit down?"

Oh no, that was the _last _thing Ashuraou wanted to do. Taishakuten was unsurprisingly not a gentle partner at all, when he reached that point of "I have to get off now." Ashuraou had had to have Taishakuten drive him home, actually, so he could lie down in the backseat of his car. But oh well, at least the other man had apologized and been semi-contrite, and surely with practice this wouldn't be such an issue anymore.

Still, it hurt like a bitch now, even with the appropriate prior precautions. Ashuraou had been dosing himself with painkillers all day and had called into work, and he made the mental note to tell Taishakuten, "Next time, when I say 'ow,' you need to calm down, okay?"

But back to the present. He smiled at Ashura and told him part of the truth: "I just feel better standing, son. Now, Ashura… Daddy has something very, very important to tell you."

"Are we getting a dog?" his son asked hopefully. "A puppy, who'll love us and play fetch and guard our house, Daddy?"

"No, we're not getting a dog, I'm sorry. No, this is something _better _than a dog," Ashuraou unintentionally lied, making Ashura wonder what could be better than a dog. Were they going to go to Disneyland early? Were they going to move to a different city to get away from Taishakuten?

Poor, poor Ashura. He was in for the shock of his young life.

"You see, son… your daddy has fallen in love with someone. No, let me finish," he said hastily, forestalling any excited questions. "Someone strong and charismatic and very intelligent, someone who loves me and has for years. Someone who I have decided I love too, someone who makes me very happy. And Ashura, that someone is my best friend Arthur."

At Ashura's near-catatonic stare, he rushed on, "Now, a man doesn't have to love a woman. Men can love men too, and women can love women. This is called homosexuality, and it isn't a bad thing, no matter what some people will tell you. And because I love Arthur, you and I are going to move into his new mansion as soon as possible." He beamed, and finished with a clueless, "Isn't that great? Aren't you happy for me?"

No, not in the least. Instead, Ashura was horrified and hoping that this was just a bad dream, because having _Taishakuten _be his father's significant other was the worst thing he could think of. And _living _with the stupidhead? That was going to be torture, pure and simple. So he did the only thing he could: he exploded.

"NOOOOOOO! Daddy, _NO! _No no no no nooo! I _HATE _Arthur! I want him to die! If you don't break up with him, I'm going to – to go live with Grammy and Pop-Pop!" he screamed, throwing himself to the floor and beating his fists and feet against it.

"Ashura," the bearer of bad news pleaded, "calm down, please! I know you don't like him, but I love him, and in time you'll –"

"Did he brainwash you?!" Ashura howled, continuing his flailing. "He's the most awful, evil, mean, and cruel man in the whole universe! Daddy, he _sucks!_"

"Don't use such language," Ashuraou snapped, grabbing one of Ashura's wrists. "That is not a nice or appropriate phrase! Now take some deep breaths, and when you calm down, I'll let you have _two _ice cream bars, and –"

"I don't want any ice cream bars! Lemme go!" Ashura shrieked, then chomped his dad's hand. As Ashuraou yelled, "OW!" and jerked his hand away, Ashura got to his feet and stomped over to the phone, ready to make good on his threat of staying with his grandparents. _They _wouldn't make him live with his worst enemy.

"William Joseph Ashuraou," Karl Joseph Ashuraou thundered, "you're going in the corner for that one! Don't you – put that phone down, young man! I mean it, don't you dial anyone!"

Ashura punched in his grandparents' number, and glared at his father as he did. When Ashuraou lunged forward and tried to yank it from his hand, he just twisted out of his reach and took to his heels, running for the bathroom and locking it before his father could stop him.

"Ashura! Open this door!"

He ignored the pounding, and listened to the phone ring one more time. Then an elderly, sweet, maternal voice asked, "Am I talking to Karl or Ashura, honey? The caller ID just says 'Karl.' "

"This is Ashura, Grammy!" he yelled over the pounding. "I need to come live with you and Pop-Pop! PLEASE!"

"What's all that noise in the background, dear?" she asked suspiciously. "Are you having some work done on the house?"

"That's Daddy. I'm in the bathroom and I won't let him in," he answered proudly. "Grammy, he says we're going to move in with _Arthur! _He told me he's in _love _with the big meanie," he snarled, making "love" sound like a horrible, disgusting thing that no one in their right mind would want.

As Ashura's grandmother tried to confirm that her son was in love with Taishakuten, Ashuraou stopped banging on the door and went for his lockpicks. He'd known this day would eventually come, when his son pulled the "locking the door" trick, but he'd expected it to happen only after Ashura was thirteen, or maybe twelve.

"Yes, _Arthur_, Grammy!" Ashura wailed. "Can you believe it?!"

"Well sweetie, I think that's _wonderful _news!" Mrs. Ashuraou said brightly. "Your Pop-Pop and I always wanted him to settle down, and that Mr. Taishakuten is a catch. So smart and responsible, with his own company, and a looker too."

Yep, Ashuraou's parents were not so bright. But hey, they were related to him, and _he _liked Taishakuten too, obviously. There was just something in the Ashuraou genes that made them overlook Taishakuten's awfulness, and focus only on his intelligence, handsomeness, and strength of character instead of his cruelty, arrogance, and sadism. Ashura probably would have liked him too, had he not tormented the tortured child.

For a moment or two Ashura just stood there, his eyes bugged out and his mouth moving with no sound coming out. As he tried to come to grips with this, the sound of footsteps could be heard in the hallway, alongside Ashuraou muttering, "Lock me out of the bathroom, will you son? You're going in the corner for _sure_."

"But _Grammy,_" Ashura nearly bawled, "I hate him! I need to come live with you guys in Michigan so I'll never have to see him again! Daddy's gone insane, and he won't listen to reason!"

Suddenly an elderly male voice could be heard, saying, "Now Ashura, your Grammy and I can't take you from your daddy! Wouldn't you miss him? You'd cry every night that he was in a different state and missing you too. Buck up, sport, and keep an open mind."

Ashura thought about saying that he'd be crying every night living with Taishakuten too, but tears were welling up and his lower lip was trembling. His grandparents were horrible, not helping him escape this awful situation, and the future was not only scary, it was bleak.

So he started to cry, as dramatically as he could, just as Ashuraou swung the door open. At the sight and sound of his blubbering offspring, all ideas of punishment flew out the window and he pleaded, "Ashura, it's really okay! I promise! Can I have the phone please, son?"

"WAAAAHHH!"

But Ashura passed it over, because nothing mattered anymore! He collapsed onto the floor with his head in his hands, sobbing and deciding that there was no God, evil always won, and his dad really _had _been Santa all along, as Elijah had insisted. Everything good in the world was dead, and life had no meaning.

A worried expression on his face, Ashuraou greeted his parents with, "Hi. What did he tell you? …Yes, that's true, thank you very much for your congratulations. …What's that? Why yes, I suppose something to make him calm down would help. …Oh? All right, I'll ask him…

"…Mm-hmm, with Arthur in his new mansion. …Well, Mother, this state still outlaws same-sex marriages, so it's a moot point. …All right, I promise if it ever changes that's what we'll do. Listen, can I call you back? Ashura's completely breaking down here. …I love you too, goodbye."

He turned the phone off, knelt down next to Ashura, placed a hand on his shoulder, and cajoled, "If I could buy you one thing, or take you one place to make this easier on you, what or where would it be? Barring a prison to stick Arthur in."

And suddenly there was a light at the end of the tunnel! Ashura raised his head, still sniffling but wiping his tears away, and thought about this. A blank check, and he had the sense he would never get this chance again. So he thought hard about what this thing should be.

It should be something he loved and that Ashuraou had said he couldn't have before, so food and toys were out. It should be something that would last for a while, so a ride in a fighter jet was out too. And it should be something Taishakuten would _not _like, so a vacation was out as well. And then, it hit him – an attack dog, one that he could secretly train to kill Taishakuten!

Ashura could see it now: a huge, wolf-like dog, sharp teeth and muscles with muscles, leaping for Taishakuten's throat and ripping it out! The dog would lift its head and howl in triumph, and Ashura would join in too. Then the dog would wag its tail and let Ashura give it a belly rub, because they'd be friends and it would _never _hurt _him_, just the stupidhead.

But for that to happen, it would have to be a puppy, what a _shame_. With the naivete of a youth who had never had a dog before, he was sure that he could easily train the dog to be vicious to Taishakuten and nice to everyone else, in very little time indeed. If Cesar Milan could make mean dogs nice, surely Ashura could make a nice dog selectively mean.

Here Ashura, like much of the viewing public, was demonstrating his lack of knowledge of dog training. The Dog Whisperer's methods, to be blunt, were not optimal in the least, in fact harmful in the long run. Basically bullying a canine into submission was asking for trouble, because dog training with positive, consistent reinforcement and lots of repetition worked better. Not to mention that attack dogs tended to be aggressive to _everyone_, not just one person. But Ashura was convinced that if he praised the dog when it did something bad to Taishakuten, and otherwise scolded it for undesired behaviors, he would come out on top.

And a _dog_… what (non-allergic) little boy _wouldn't _want a dog? It was a classic, " a boy and his dog," as wholesome and good as Mom and apple pie and the Star-Spangled Banner. The dog would be a best friend in a house with Taishakuten and Ashura's brainwashed father, and they'd be bonded past death itself, because Ashura had decided that God existed after all.

So he told Ashuraou, "Daddy, I want a _puppy! _One that'll grow up to be a big dog, like a Rottweiler or a German Shepherd or a Doberman. That's what I want. It's the only way I can go on," he said dramatically, making his lower lip tremble again for effect.

Desperate to avoid another blowup, Ashuraou immediately agreed, "All right Ashura, I'll get you a puppy. We'll research the breeds and you can decide which one you want, and then we'll get it as soon as possible, okay? Don't cry anymore, please," he begged frantically.

"Can I have the ice cream bars now?" Ashura asked, pushing his luck.

It held. Ashuraou agreed, "Yes, yes you can. You don't have to stand in the corner either, actually, as long as you apologize for this bite," he sighed, holding up his left hand where teeth marks could be seen.

"I'm sorry Daddy!" the little charmer warbled, giving him a hug. "I love you!" _I think you're stupid, but I love you anyway._

After eating his ice cream bars, Ashura left Ashuraou standing in the living room watching TV, and he himself called up Ryuu to share the bad news and the good news.

"Nathy," he said seriously into the phone, "I have something to tell you. Two things, actually – no, _three _things. I'm getting a puppy, but only because Daddy's moving in with Arthur and I have to come with, and he says he's in love with him."

"Who's Arthur?" Ryuu asked, a bit confused. "And I had no idea your dad was gay."

"Arthur Taishakuten. He's –"

"Arthur _Taishakuten?!_" Ryuu yelped incredulously. "You mean the nasty CEO of Tenkai Corporation?! Ashura, my cousin works for them, and he says the guy is a psycho and he's glad he's never met him. Is your dad _really _gay for _him?_" he asked in horrified shock, wondering if Ashuraou had been switched with a Pod Person or something.

"Apparently yes," Ashura muttered, with a glare at the wall. "And I hate him too! I'll pray every night lightning strikes and kills him, or Daddy comes to his senses, or he gets in a car crash, or aliens abduct him and take him to Pluto for dissection while he's still alive. Or a piano falls on him, whichever."

"Ashura," Ryuu said firmly, "when you grow up, you can move out of that house the _day _you turn eighteen, provided of course that you've got somewhere to live and a job lined up. Don't lose sight of that, okay?"

"That's twelve whole _years _away!" Ashura whined, then had an idea and went on, "But maybe if I'm lucky, Daddy will realize how awful that jerk is and move out himself! Or maybe they'll have a fight and he'll shoot him, and I'll back him up when he says a housebreaker did it."

"What you need to do is be passive-aggressive, and hide behind your dad whenever you can," Ryuu suggested like a helpful, devilish trickster. "It'll make things bearable."

"Nathy," Ashura replied with an evil grin, "I've got a plan. I can't tell you because it's top-secret, but don't worry… Arthur won't have an easy time of it, I can promise you that!"

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(AN: Well, Taishakuten/Lord Ashura fans, how did I do? Maybe this got more of you reading my work, and curious about the rest. Or maybe not, as some "RG Veda" fans couldn't care less about the 98% of characters who aren't Taishakuten and Lord Ashura, but at least I tried!

It was very very odd, writing these two. I'd only ever written Taishakuten as a complete and total psycho before "Adele," and I'd never written Lord Ashura in any depth at all. I myself found him boring in Volumes One through Nine, and a selfish, moronic villain in Volume Ten: "Hey, why don't I subject the _entirety_ of Tenkai to God-King Taishakuten, 'cause I want _one_ kid that I'll never actually meet who'll be evil anyway! Did I mention I was supposed to protect the world, not let two giant threats to it run around?"

Yeah, nice one, Mr. Pointy Ears, nice one. Anyway, I wrote them in here because I couldn't leave them out, but this was the weakest installment. I struggled with writing it [save for the Ashura scenes], and there's a reason it's shorter than all the others.

So hmm, this fic seems to be all about hair. Yasha's long hair that Vahyu compliments him on, Hakuryuu and Seiryuu singing Lady Gaga's "Hair" while whipping theirs around, Varuna's forelock that everybody makes fun of, Bishamonten's and Tenou's similar hair colors, Zouchouten's stupid sideburns that Karura likes because she's got it bad, and now Lord Ashura thinks Taishakuten's hair is sexy. I guess "Hair" should be the straight-up theme song for this story, just as "Someone Like You" was the theme song for "Adele" proper.

In the next chapter, we start to move into sequel territory, and if you haven't read "Adele" it will make little sense. We'll see Kahra help Shashi plan her wedding, and Kumaraten wonder if he can get out of being in Zouchouten and Karura's wedding. And everybody dealing with the new dynamics after the end of "Adele" proper but before the epilogue.

And it, um, might be pushing the T rating. We don't see a thing, but conversation gets pretty naughty at times. Why? Four words: "bachelor and bachelorette parties." Uh-oh. And yes, Taishura-ou fans, there's more of those two too. And in the last major installment of this fic, we'll even see the puppy, Shuratou.)


	7. Lysol and Weddings

**Chapter Seven: Lysol and Weddings**

_Kumaraten's office was contaminated, Kahra's sister is marrying a man higher in the company totem pole than her husband, and who decided to schedule two weddings within a month of each other? _

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(AN: And here we see the germ-phobic, grumpy engineer, and his shrinking violet, pushover wife! I love 'em both, but I have taken some liberties with them. After all, so much of their characters in the manga are situational: "I want to rebuild my tribe and kill the man who killed them!" and "I'm lying to the man I love to keep him happy, and I'm faking a pregnancy too while being actually dead!" Needless to say, that won't work in an office setting.

Why is Kumaraten germ-phobic? For pure comic effect, really. After all, if people have sex in your office and you fear microbes, you're going to have some drama. I'm not sure if he was introverted in the manga, but if he could live underground with only two other people for three hundred years, he at least wasn't super-extroverted. I'm an introvert myself, so I know the trials and humorous potential of such a thing.

On a side note… thanks for the review on "Sexy Hair," nga130. You're right, Lord Ashura should've been portrayed almost as badly as Taishakuten, and I really do despise him for the way he made everyone else suffer. I was attempting to emulate CLAMP and portray him as a good guy until you realize how selfish he is, but it's good to know that I needed to develop his dark side more. And yes, CLAMP totally changed their story by the end, it's nice to find another someone who acknowledges that.

And now, for the warnings: sexiness, adult language, people sucking down alcohol like water, adult topics of conversation, atheistic thoughts [I don't think that's actually worthy of warning, but some of you might], violent fantasies, and men taking their shirts off for little reason. Oh wait, we've seen that already with Hakuryuu and Seiryuu! Well, this time it's other people too.

Now that I've tantalized those of you who like shirtless men, let's see this.)

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(December 26th, 2012)

Harold Kumaraten was a man who had gone through a lot. As a child, his infant brother had died from pneumonia. As a teenager, his best friend had been paralyzed in a car crash. In college, his favorite professor had stolen funds, taken the dean hostage, and escaped to Bolivia before grading his brilliant final project for that class. In graduate school, both of his parents had died on their African safari, thanks to ignoring the guide and some annoyed lions.

When he'd found the woman of his dreams, he'd also found that woman's bitchy twin sister. When hired for his dream job, he'd gained the CEO he wanted to run over with a Hummer. And when his boss Aaron Zouchouten, who he liked very much otherwise, had gotten together with Ellen Karura, they'd had sex in Kumaraten's office.

He recalled the poem that Victor Kujaku had recited to him the day after that horrible event, "Ellen and Aaron Got It On in Harold's Office." It had gone like this:

"Ellen and Aaron are in love,  
And I'll tell you what they did  
They had sex in poor Harold's office,  
Which just might result in a kid  
I don't know how he didn't crush her,  
But maybe she was on top  
Perhaps she simply tackled him,  
And he loudly said, 'Don't stop!'

"I'm sure there was much heavy breathing,  
And lots of writhing too  
I bet they said explicit things,  
While he stared into her eyes so blue  
She probably told him, 'You're sexy,'  
And he told her, 'I love your soul,'  
Now personally I think it's funny,  
But rather cute on the whole

"Ellen and Aaron got it on in Harold's office!  
Oh those deviant pervs  
Ellen and Aaron got it on in Harold's office  
That's something to make your head swerve."

Kumaraten had muttered, "You forgot how they probably contaminated it. What if one of them has an STD?! Even without that, the female –"

"Nah, I'm not changing it. It's perfect the way it is," Kujaku had grinned proudly. "And Harold, seriously, you're being paranoid. It's fine, I bet you – I bet you having to go up to Reginald and tell him, 'You're the world champion ass-kisser, Reggie!' Wanna take that bet, Harold ol' pal?" he coaxed eagerly, envisioning Reginald Bishamonten's apoplectic reaction.

"No," Kumaraten had snapped, spraying some more Lysol. "Now go away, I have to sterilize this office the best I can."

Mere minutes after Kujaku had left, a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips, a delivery guy had shown up with a giant fruit basket and a cheery, "This is from Mr. Zouchouten! Uh… what's with all the Lysol, sir?" he'd asked suspiciously, wrinkling his nose at the fumes.

Kumaraten had ignored that question and taken the fruit basket, and read the attached note. It had said, "Dear Harold,

"In apology for making you miss your meeting and using your office for things you no doubt were upset at, this is for you. I will also be giving you a small bonus. I know you like fruit, so I hope you enjoy this.

"– Aaron"

Kumaraten _did _enjoy fruit, but having it basting in Lysol fumes wasn't a good idea. So he'd taken the basket outside, and managed to convince an underling to store it in her office until he could take it home, but only by saying she could have a dragonfruit. He had then returned to his workspace, and half an hour later, Zouchouten had shown up in person.

"Harold, this is unhealthy having all this Lysol around," he'd said, frowning at the smell. "May I ask _why _you don't want to breathe?"

"Well sir," Kumaraten had replied as politely as he could, "I like the lemon-fresh scent, that's all." _Well sir, this room hasn't been deep-cleaned, and you were rolling around in it with Ellen. You probably touched all of my things with hands that made contact with her –_

"Harold," Zouchouten had sighed, not fooled by the lemon-fresh lie, "I told you, we laid down clothes, okay? And we even used some hand sanitizer before we opened the door. And I'm sorry, and I gave you a fruit basket and bonus in apology, now can you let it go and ease off on the Lysol?"

Kumaraten had had no choice but to agree to ease off, but when Zouchouten was gone he'd bonked his head against his desk a couple of times, then realized with horror that maybe they'd used the desk, eek! Oh well, if he hadn't already contracted something from it, that wouldn't push him over. And thankfully he'd managed to Lysol everything before Zouchouten came in.

Sure the fumes had drifted down the hall for no less than three days later, but he'd finally become comfortable in his office again. And now, his boss and that boss's assistant were engaged, alongside another Senior VP.

That last one would really affect Kumaraten, and his wife Kahra. Yes, Shashi Prince and Reginald Bishamonten had gotten their acts together and _gotten_ together, in both senses of the phrase. Kumaraten knew this because Shashi had called Kahra up and babbled the entire story on speakerphone, sharing a little too much information actually. He had _not _wanted to know that Bishamonten "took me to Heaven in his studly arms, and I left scratches on his sweaty back in my orgasmic ecstasy."

So Kumaraten was distressed again. Yes it was a step upwards from having Arthur Taishakuten as a brother-in-law, but he didn't know Bishamonten very well and a lot of what he _did_ know was scary. Not only was the man wealthy, powerful, scarily loyal and often arrogant, he was descended from English nobility. Kumaraten himself was descended from Irish, Scottish, and Welsh peasants, and he had the sense that his ancestors would be crying about this.

He sighed at his computer screen, wondering if he could get away with calling his wife. Kahra would be able to calm him down, she always had been. Yes it was good that Tenou's father was going to marry Tenou's mother, but still. Kumaraten honestly wondered how Bishamonten had missed such a fact for so long, because other people had picked up on it.

Kahra had suspected that Tenou's existence might have been the result of Bishamonten the minute she'd met her young nephew years ago, when he was six. She'd only met the man once, before that screaming row about Aunt Sophia's sapphire pendant, but his hair had certainly made an impression.

"Shashi," Kahra had asked hesitantly as little Tenou played with Barbies and GI Joes in another room, "who's his father?"

"Never you mind," her sister had snapped, crossing her arms. "I'll tell Tenou when he's eighteen, but it's none of _your _business. And don't you ask Harold to bother me about it either."

Kahra, still wary of another confrontation, had let it drop. She'd also let it drop years later, when Kumaraten had mentioned that one of his new bosses was "Reginald Bishamonten, the toady to end all toadies. That man must dye his hair or something, it's so ridiculously red. He wears it in a really weird style, too."

"A high ponytail, with short front and sides?" Kahra had asked incredulously. "And he has beautiful black eyes and aristocratic eyebrows?"

"Why… yes," Kumaraten had replied, a tad surprised. "How did you – is he an old boyfriend?" he'd queried a bit hysterically. Oh God, Taishakuten's loyal henchman had sullied his pure and wonderful wife!

"Of course not," Kahra had soothed, which had relieved him to no end. "No, he used to date my sister. About – I think thirteen years ago, or thereabouts."

"Oh," her husband had sighed, feeling so much better. "Well, that's a coincidence and no mistake. You won't mind if I don't mention it to him, will you? He scares me, and I don't want you inviting him over for tea and crumpets, or something. He's ruthless, honey. He goes out and ruins people's livelihoods by hostile takeovers. With a grin."

So Kahra had kept her mouth shut, even though the older Tenou got, the more he resembled his dad. But when Shashi had said she was moving to Zenmi, Kahra had finally confided to Kumaraten, "Harold, I have something to tell you that might come as a bit of a shock."

"You've got cancer," he'd gasped, horrified. "Oh, honey! Honey, don't worry, we'll get through this! I'll shave my head in solidarity, and help you when you get weak and sick from chemo, and I promise you, I'll alwa–"

"I don't have cancer!" she'd quickly assured him. "No one we know does, unless it's hidden and they don't know either. This is about Tenou, and no, he hasn't been arrested for vandalism or drugs, and he didn't get a girl pregnant," she rushed on, before he could ask what surprising and out-of-character thing the boy had done.

"Well, what is it? And don't scare me like that."

"Well, um… you see, Harold, I'm almost positive that we actually know Tenou's father. You remember how I told you that Shashi used to date Mr. Bishamonten…?" she'd asked almost nervously, her hands twisting the hem of her shirt in guilt.

Kumaraten had stared, thought, looked over at the picture of Tenou and Shashi on the mantle, studied it, thought some more, and breathed, "Oh. My. God."

But they'd agreed to never mention it, because there _was _a slight possibility that they were wrong, and Shashi had made it clear that it wasn't a matter she wanted to discuss. However, when they'd invited her along to that fateful dinner where she'd met Taishakuten, there had been an unspoken agreement that maybe they should casually drop by Bishamonten's table with her. Maybe she'd throw herself into his arms and confess to the existence of his son, or something equally dramatic.

But he hadn't been there. No, he'd been at an art awards show, where Kisshouten had picked up yet another little plaque for her work, and he was completely unaware that Shashi was even in Zenmi. As he'd been clapping for his first wife, Shashi and Taishakuten had been hitting it off, poor Shashi blissfully ignorant of the "cover" aspect.

When Shashi had told the Richard lie to Tenou, and Tenou had passed it on to his aunt and uncle, both of them had had to work _really _hard not to say, "It's too convenient! She's never mentioned that guy, and if she supposedly loved him so much, why not? You're too trusting, nephew, and hasn't someone in the community looked at you and Reginald together and said something about, 'My, you look so much like your dad'?"

No, actually. Then again, multiple people had thought it. It had just been Bishamonten and Tenou's bad luck that no one had verbalized it, but they would have had a good, ignorant laugh about it if someone had.

Yet Kumaraten and Kahra had decided, once back in their car, that with such a story Shashi clearly didn't want her son to know the truth. They'd felt bad about it, but what could they do that wouldn't result in another possible estrangement? And a huge fight and possible estrangement between Tenou and Shashi, too.

Answer: keep mum. Maybe it would all come out without their help?

And yes, it had. Assisted by Tenou showing Bishamonten the class ring he'd given Shashi as a love token, the truth had come crashing down onto their heads. Assisted by a notebook full of incriminating evidence, Kisshouten had found out that Bishamonten had lied to her and still wanted Shashi, so she'd left him. And assisted by a meaningful little gift from Zouchouten and Koumokuten, Bishamonten had reconciled with Shashi and proposed on Christmas Eve.

Now it was two days later, the first day back at work, and Kumaraten had to wonder if this engagement would be announced over the PA system, like Koumokuten had announced his. Well, if it was, it wouldn't be full of stupid fire references. How had it gone? Oh yes…

"Attention, denizens of Tenkai Corporation. This is Xavier Koumokuten, Senior Vice President of Marketing. Yesterday, I proposed to my girlfriend, a woman with fire in her soul and the heart of a warrior. My beloved fire goddess said 'yes'! Soon, I'll join her in the comforting glow of matrimony, and we'll live happily ever after, our burning hearts joined together forevermore. Now get back to work, slackers."

Yeah, it was safe to say _that _would never be repeated, Kumaraten thought with a snort and a shake of his head.

He was just closing his file when the door opened and Bishamonten walked in, smiling and greeting, "Hello, Harold. What a lovely day, isn't it?"

"Um, yes. Congratulations, Reginald," Kumaraten replied, shoving the screaming serfs within down. "Kahra and I are very excited to have you join our family," he lied… well, half-lied. Kahra _was _excited, and while he himself wasn't _upset_, this would still take some getting used to.

"And I'm very excited for it too," Bishamonten assured him. "In fact, that's why I'm here, really. To talk to my future kinsman and get to know him better."

Uh-oh, the man was here to play "friendly relative."

Bishamonten smiled, "Harold, Shashi suggested that we do some fun male-bonding activities, since we'll soon be brother-in-laws after all. Do you like opera? I have lifetime passes, and 'Aïda' is playing soon."

Kumaraten wondered how one replied to this, when one was still very intimidated by one's future brother-in-law. Not to mention that opera gave him a headache. Would it kill those screeching sopranos to just _talk _once in a while? And half the time the songs felt like filler, too.

"Or," Bishamonten went on, "we could watch a basketball game in my private suite. Are you a basketball fan?"

Kumaraten thought, _No. It goes on forever, professional sports are the bane of my existence, and I have a hard time picturing you in jeans and sneakers, waving a "Number One" giant foam hand and with a Zenmi Guardians jersey._

"That's very kind of you," he said quickly, "but I don't feel comfortable in crowds."

"But it's a private suite," Bishamonten stressed, like Kumaraten was a ninny. "You're above the crowd, and you don't have to deal with seatmates getting up or getting drunk. And it's going to be a good game, because the Guardians are playing the Celtics. Personally, I find basketball incredibly entertaining to watch, and enjoy playing it casually as well."

"Well Reginald, I appreciate your offer, but – but why don't we go to the Science Museum sometime instead?" Kumaraten suggested a tad desperately. As an engineer, he never got tired of such a thing, and the coolest part was that it always had some sort of special traveling exhibit.

Bishamonten agreed to the Science Museum idea, and they made it a date. As the head of Expansion turned to leave, he said over his shoulder, "We'll see you tonight, then."

Kahra and Kumaraten would be going over to Shashi's house, and Kumaraten had a good idea where this was headed. They'd no doubt be asked to be part of the wedding, most likely roped into helping with it, and possibly subjected to reminiscing on the old days of the early '90s, when Bishamonten and Shashi had cohabited and once landed a fine for canoodling in a park on a picnic blanket. Kumaraten could only hope that they'd learned their lesson and there wouldn't be a repeat of anything like that.

And so, that evening, he found himself driving to 2285 Royalty Drive, hand sanitizer in his pocket like always, and telling his wife, "Honey, remember, you have the right to say 'no' to whatever they ask you to do."

"I know that," Kahra told him, but she sounded a little dubious.

As he parked the car, her husband thought of the way poor Kahra had been made to hand Shashi her toys as a toddler, hand her her snacks as an elementary schooler, let her borrow her clothes and makeup as a teenager, and buy her things as an adult. But hopefully with him at her side, she wouldn't be made to, oh, pay for the caterer out of her own pocket.

They walked up the front sidewalk, their breath visible in the air, and rang the doorbell. Shashi must have seen them coming, because it hadn't even finished ringing before she swung the door open and urged, "Come in, Reginald's already here."

Kahra and Shashi didn't resemble each other much at all, which made sense because they'd had different dads. Kahra's eyes were big, gentle, and green, while Shashi's eyes were more narrow, often hard, and brown. Kahra's hair was a gleaming gold, Shashi's hair was a merely shiny chocolate. Kahra's skin was brown, Shashi's skin was peach. Shashi was even a little taller, and tended to wear sexier outfits while Kahra dressed pretty conservatively.

And in personality, they were even more different. Shashi was very outgoing, downright pushy, and focused on material things, having become a doctor more for the pay and prestige than helping people. Kahra was shy, very sweet, and focused on emotional and spiritual things, although she could be very practical about money. She was a creative writer, one who'd had three novels published and was working on a fourth, a sequel to the third one.

"I hope you had a good drive," Shashi smiled, stepping back to let them in. "Tenou will take your coats, won't you honey?" she directed at her smiling son, who'd come up behind her.

"Sure," he cheerfully agreed, and proceeded to do just that. As Tenou hung the coats up in the coatroom, Shashi led her relatives to the living room, where Bishamonten had just put down a glass of wine. Now Kumaraten remembered that the man was a connoisseur of the stuff, just one more example of being high-class.

He was still wearing his suit, too. Oh dear, Kumaraten now felt underdressed, with his boring sweater and jeans. It would have been easier if the guy were wearing a smoking jacket, because that was at least _casual _high-class. He probably owned t-shirts only for exercise, and never wore anything but business attire wherever he went. No, that wasn't true, because he'd been wearing polos and nice shorts at the company picnics, the engineer now remembered.

After some more congratulations, Shashi and Bishamonten got right down to business, and Shashi smiled, "We'd like both of you to be in the wedding party. Kahra as my matron of honor, Harold as a groomsman. Tenou's going to be the best man!"

"Why isn't he the one giving you away?" Kumaraten asked a bit incredulously. "I mean, is it _allowed_, having your son as the best man? Surely it's much more traditional to have the male family member give the bride away."

"He's the best man," she snapped in reply. "Now, Reginald wanted Arthur in the wedding party too, but I refused. Instead, we've compromised and decided to have Aaron, Xavier, and James round out the groomsmen, and my friend Aguni and Reginald's cousins Beth, Shirley, and Suzanne will be the other bridesmaids. It'll be an Anglican wedding, by the way."

Oh no, the faith that had crushed Kumaraten's Catholic forebears! But oh well, he was an atheist anyway so it didn't really matter.

"Wow, Anglican," Kahra smiled. "I've never been to an Anglican wedding before. I wonder what will be different about it. I mean, I've been to other Protestant weddings, but never one in the Church of England. I'll have to see what it's like in relation to all the Catholic ones I've attended."

Kahra had been a Catholic nun, and still kept the faith. However, she was now a liberal, dissenting Catholic, the type the Church made inquiries about and made sure to say wasn't what a _real _Catholic was, and was out of line with Church teaching. But she didn't care, because there were lots of others like her in that bracket.

She and her husband, who had decided he was an atheist only a month before their Catholic wedding, had agreed to disagree. And really, being an atheist didn't mean you couldn't be moral at all. In fact, Kumaraten was a lot more moral than a lot of Christians these days, the ones who slept with people before marriage, shacked up, got knocked up out of wedlock, hated their gay neighbor, and thought the Commandment of "Thou shalt not kill" could be waived if they were part of the armed forces.

Here was a prime example of that: Kumaraten and Kahra had waited until marriage to do the deed, Bishamonten and Shashi had been screwing around years ago and living together, and now, Bishamonten was still technically married to Kisshouten. Yes the divorce proceedings were moving along, but still. Kumaraten privately thought being engaged to one woman while you were still un-divorced from another was rather awful, although at least Bishamonten had taken off the wedding band weeks ago.

And speaking of Kisshouten…

"The divorce is scheduled to be finalized in early May," Bishamonten told them. "And Shashi and I have decided not to waste any time. We've agreed on May 17th for the wedding, and while that _is_ short notice, we want to make this legal as soon as possible."

"How in the world do you expect to be prepared for it in time?" Kahra had to ask.

"We've hired a wedding planner, April – well, I forget her last name, but we've hired her and she seems very good. We were lucky she was able to squeeze us in, because the first two we tried couldn't do it on such short notice," Shashi sighed, sounding put out at the nerve of those people. "Anyway, she wants a ridiculous fee but we can afford it."

"She deserves a good fee for helping you," Kahra replied. She was almost positive that this would be a fancy wedding, even scaled down from what they'd probably wanted. She continued, "There's so much to do, and so little time to do it in."

"Kahra, you can help April plan this just as much as I will!" Shashi ordered brightly. "We're trying to cram a regular sixteen-month engagement into a five-month one, and we'll all be going like maniacs. You don't have a job, so you'll be able to help the most!"

Kahra felt like protesting, "What do you mean, 'I don't have a job'?! Writing is hard work, and just because I do it from my home and don't have daily deadlines it doesn't mean I'm not busy and often stressed."

But she smiled and agreed, "Well of course I'll help you plan it! You'd probably go insane all by yourself. And with Reginald," she hastily amended, then rallied and went on, "Have you been looking through magazines and online to get ideas for it? Do you need helping starting a website? Oh, and you should probably make a binder of id–"

"Yes to the first question, no to the second question, and I already started one to the third sentence," Shashi said smugly. "In fact, I'll go get the binder right now!" And with that she stood up and dashed off, as Bishamonten watched her go with a fond smile.

Tenou told his aunt and uncle, "Mother's been looking through inspirational things all through today, whenever she had time. She told me she ate lunch at her laptop, and she subscribed to a ton of wedding magazines and sites, and she's already been discussing the color scheme with Dad."

Kahra, getting a warm fuzzy feeling at what Tenou had so casually called Bishamonten, replied, "That's wonderful. Weddings are often billed as the most important day of a woman's life, and your mother always wants to look her best anyway. But Tenou, I should warn you that a lot of brides go overboard and get so tightly wound they snap."

Kumaraten, who'd been frantically trying to tell his wife with his eyes to refuse, cautiously asked Bishamonten, "Is it so important that you _have_ to be married as soon as possible? I mean, pushing it back by even a month would be beneficial, don't you think?"

"No," Bishamonten said firmly, and Kumaraten hastily shut his mouth.

Bishamonten continued, "I've waited almost two decades to marry Shashi, and that's quite long enough. For all we know, one of us could die in a car crash in six months, and then we'd have never been married at all. I mean, Harold, when one's made the decision to get married, why put it off longer than necessary?" he asked with a bit of an iron tone to his voice.

Before Kumaraten had to reply, Shashi was back with the binder. She set it on the coffee table and proceeded to share what she'd found so far, grinning and making sure to add how much of a fashion genius she was. Bishamonten seemed pleased, Tenou seemed pleased, Kahra was overwhelmed just looking at the ideas, and Kumaraten decided that when Shashi inevitably _did _snap, he'd have the mental ward of a hospital on speed-dial.

The next day, Kahra was over again to work on the guest list. She now learned Bishamonten's new pet name for his fiancée: "ruby." Why? "Because the ruby is a gorgeous gem, exotic and rare, and Shashi is the gorgeous woman I would never find again in a million years," he had proclaimed, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Yup, the man simply _had_ to have a pet name for his life partner; Kisshouten's had been "lotus."

Kahra also learned that some far-flung relatives on Bishamonten's side would be hopefully coming from England, wow. And that Shashi had more friends in Zenmi than she did, which somehow seemed counterintuitive. Plus, Bishamonten did not want to invite his current neighbors, mumbling something about "Frosty the Snowman" and personal space. But unfortunately for Shashi…

"We should invite your neighbors on the right and their cousin," he suggested happily. "Such nice young men, and Tenou's friends too. Ruby, think of it like this, that's at least one extra wedding gift," he cajoled, correctly interpreting her look of disgust.

Shashi, who still thought Hakuryuu and Seiryuu Waters were exhibitionist thugs but no longer thought they were incestuous gay lovers, frowned a bit and considered the pros and cons to that. On the one hand, loot. On the other, she didn't like them. On the other other hand, loot. On the other other _other _hand, would they even wear suits or would they show up in grunge gear? But really, _loot_.

So she nodded and agreed, "All right sexykins, we can invite the Waters boys and that hanger-on Nathan."

"Boys"? Hakuryuu was twenty-seven, Bishamonten couldn't help but think, and Seiryuu was twenty-five now. But oh well, they _were _younger than the two of them were, so he let it pass. If they were from a different generation, surely it was all right to belittle their maturity. After all, according to his fiancée they ran around shirtless in the summer, so clearly they were a lot less straight-laced than he was.

.

It was now March, and the wedding planning was chugging along. Actually, _two _weddings were chugging along, as Zouchouten and Karura had decided to get married on April 20th. They'd picked the date before Bishamonten and Shashi, and had been a bit surprised that the other two had somewhat muscled in on their matrimonial territory. But oh well, it wasn't like it was the same week, and Zouchouten would be back from the honeymoon in time to be in the second ceremony.

And who would be in this wedding of the General of R & D and his lovely assistant? Why, Nina Souma would be the maid of honor, and Koumokuten would be the best man. They'd been called together and asked to step into those shoes with broad grins, which had an edge to them of "Don't say 'no' and ruin the happiest day of our lives just because you hate each other."

Souma had gulped and looked scathingly at Koumokuten, who'd given her a haughty look down his nose in return. Oh yes, wouldn't this be fun? She'd have to walk down the aisle next to Mr. Meanie, and he wouldn't be paired with Aguni for once. Not to mention that they'd have to interact closely for all the planning and rehearsals.

But sacrifices had to be made, Souma had decided nobly and realistically. She could handle it to make Karura and Zouchouten happy.

But he could try to humiliate her, Koumokuten had decided evilly and vindictively. He'd step on the hem of her dress or something, and she'd trip and he could exchange grins with Aguni, who cared if it was his friend's big day?

That had been that. So now, as the Zouchouten/Karura wedding got closer, they were being forced into more and more contact. Kumaraten was waiting for a blowup, and a deathmatch with kickboxing vs. kung fu. He was unsure who would win, because while Souma might have been better at martial arts, Koumokuten would undoubtedly fight dirty.

Karyoubinga would be the flower girl, and Zouchouten's nieces Marie, Debra, and Vivica would be the regular bridesmaids. Bishamonten would be a groomsman, as would Zouchouten's brother Elbert and his brother-in-law Oliver, and some close male friend of Karyoubinga's from school would be the ringbearer, mostly because they needed somebody. Kumaraten had no idea who those other people were, but oh well, he didn't have to. All he had to do was get them a gift, show up, and –

A knock came from his door, and he opened it to see Zouchouten standing in the hallway, smiling and greeting, "Hi Harold. May I come in?"

"Of course, sir," the engineer agreed, putting his safety goggles up (he'd been working on an experiment). "What brings you down here?"

"Well," Zouchouten smiled, as coaxingly as he could, "I have a favor to ask of you. You see, my brother-in-law Oliver is going to have surgery a week from the wedding, it's something he just found out he had to have yesterday. Now, Ellen is refusing to have Taishakuten in the wedding party, and we were hoping _you _could fill in for Oliver. Please?" he pleaded, laying a hand on Kumaraten's shoulder in as gentle a manner as he was capable of.

Kumaraten's brain short-circuited at the prospect of making his boss mad, that was the only explanation he had for the way he smiled and agreed, "Why certainly, sir. I'm flattered!"

"Thanks, Harold. This means a lot. In fact," Zouchouten said generously, "why don't you come sit by me at the lunch today?"

The lunch today was after a conference on innovation, and since Kumaraten was going to be there anyway he agreed. Unfortunately, he saw as he walked in, not only Bishamonten was there as well but Koumokuten and Taishakuten too. Oh great, he'd be sitting with the corporate raiders who took such a term literally, he could tell that instantly.

He sat through all the talking, made notes on autopilot, and worried about what he was supposed to say at lunch. He'd have to make small talk, that he was sure of. He honestly wondered why anyone in their right mind would want to chatter on about the weather, how other people's families were doing, and inane babble like that. If he could just sit in silence and chew, he'd feel much more comfortable.

But no, he wouldn't be able to do that. He followed Zouchouten over like a browbeaten sheep after a shepherd, and Koumokuten gave him a weird look and asked, "What's Antisocial doing coming over here?"

Before Kumaraten could protest that he was just introverted, not so much antisocial, Zouchouten snapped, "Xavier, that wasn't nice. Harold's here because I asked him to come, and in fact, I have some news for all of you."

"Has he come up with another brilliant product?" Taishakuten asked, sounding hopeful. "There's no such thing as too many brilliant products, and the more ground we gain on Microsoft, the better," he proclaimed grandly, which just made Kumaraten more nervous. Oh geez, that man had such power!

"I, um, haven't come up with anything new yet," he said as confidently as he could. "But I'm always working towards that, sir. No, I think the announcement is – oh, why don't you tell them, Mr. Zouchouten," he suggested.

"You can call me Aaron, Harold," Zouchouten encouraged, then turned back to the other three and announced, "As Oliver's having knee surgery, Harold's going to be taking his place in the wedding party. Wasn't that nice of him?" he smiled, patting Kumaraten on the shoulder. Unfortunately he'd forgotten to use the gentle pat, and the updoed engineer winced a bit at the smacks to his shoulder.

Taishakuten now looked a tad insulted, and tried to confirm, "Let me get this straight, Aaron. I, your boss and the man who is the reason you met Ellen, am not allowed in the wedding party because she has some irrational issues with me… and yet Harold, who is your mere pet engineer and not nearly on my level, has been asked to fill in for your brother-in-law?"

Kumaraten wanted to punch Taishakuten then, but stayed silent and even smiling as Zouchouten diplomatically tried, "Well, er, if not for Harold's office, such, um, _passionate_ romance would have gotten off to a much different start. And sir, truly, it's Ellen's big day, don't you think it's important for her to have the people she most wants as members of the wedding party?" he asked as politely as he could.

"I _suppose _so," Taishakuten sighed, sounding martyred as could be. With that they turned their attention to their food, and Kumaraten enjoyed a brief vision of stabbing the CEO with his steak knife.

For a while there was small talk, and then talk about the weddings, and finally Koumokuten excused himself to use the restroom just as Bishamonten was saying, "We're having a bit of difficulty trying to find a singer for the ceremony. The deejay for the reception's locked up, but Aaron, who are you having?"

"Some high school friend of Ellen's who's a professional opera soprano," Zouchouten said smugly. "But at the reception, Karyou's going to sing a set of three songs, which in my opinion will be better. She is, without a doubt, the single best singer I've ever had the privilege to hear," he bragged, proud of his soon-to-be sister-in-law.

"She _does _have a beautiful voice," Taishakuten agreed, and then ruined that compliment by continuing, "If I had my way, I'd make her sing until she died."

Zouchouten's brows snapped into a furious position, but before he could reply and risk a verbal pummeling by Taishakuten, Bishamonten hastily jumped in with, "I heard that at the Christmas party, she upstaged Tamara. I wish I could have seen that."

"She did," Taishakuten smirked. "Tamara sulked in a corner and kept whining that she wanted to leave early. The most amusing part was the way Aguni complimented Karyoubinga, and refused to leave until the end. And Xavier, of course, went along with that last part, although he was angry too. That man is at the mercy of his wife, and if she's not around he's at the mercy of his daughter."

Ah, talking about someone behind their back! Kumaraten decided to put in his two cents' worth, and added, "Is it just me, or his his daughter the poster child for 'Spoiled Brat of Our Times'?"

"Yes she is," the other three chorused, and then Bishamonten grinned and added, "See Harold, you and I think alike on so many things."

When the lunch was done, Kumaraten congratulated himself that he was now, if not one of the good ol' boys, at least not dirt beneath their shoes. Sure Taishakuten thought he was inferior, but he thought like that about everyone but him and his chosen lover. And maybe Koumokuten had still been eyeing him like he was an upstart, but so what? Everyone else had agreed that he was right about Tamara, so there.

.

The next day, Kahra found herself working on the menu for Shashi's wedding reception. She'd been going like a maniac trying to pull this thing together, and had hardly been able to write at all. Free time? What free time? Even if she managed to get some, Shashi inevitably called with something else for her to do. Not that the bride wasn't doing just as much, but still, this was unfair because it wasn't like Kahra was getting paid. Sure she'd get a lavish "thank-you" gift, but c'mon now.

She wondered how Karura was coping. Knowing her, she'd hired a _pair _of wedding planners, and wasn't sweating the small stuff so she could concentrate better on the big stuff. Karura and Zouchouten were undoubtedly stressed too, but probably not to Kahra, Shashi, and Bishamonten's extent (and April's too).

Kahra liked Karura, and Karura liked her back. They'd hit it off at a company picnic years ago, and while they weren't bosom buddies, they were friends. Not close friends, but close enough that Kahra was pleased to be invited to the bridal shower and bachelorette parties. Now, she only had to find the perfect gift…

She groaned and buried her head in her crossed arms. Wonderful, another thing to do.

And today, she had to accompany Shashi to a fitting as well. She'd seen her matron of honor dress and been fitted for that, but today, her twin wanted to show off her gown. She'd be picking Kahra up in twenty minutes actually, having taken half a day off of work for this and other wedding-related activities.

She had sold the dress she'd had for her wedding with Taishakuten, in a fit of rage and after throwing his signed portrait out the window onto a freeway. She'd _wanted _to take a pair of scissors to the gown, but then decided that it would be better if she could get some dough out of it. It had been bought by a young lady who was marrying her childhood sweetheart, who would never turn out to be gay and dump her for his best friend.

Twenty minutes flew by, but Kahra managed to finalize the menu, and could only hope Shashi would approve. After all, these were all foods that she'd suggested and ranked in various ways, so hopefully it would be fine. The blond sister was just putting on her shoes when the doorbell rang and Shashi called, "Are you ready? I hope you're ready!"

Kahra showed her the menu, Shashi gave it her okay, and then they were off, in the red sports car she'd only had for a year but boy, did she love it. Kahra herself drove an SUV, because it was safer than a tiny two-seater. If she got rear-ended or hit on the side, there would be damage but she'd probably be okay. If the same thing happened to Shashi, she might not make it.

The automotive daredevil was chattering, "I appreciate all your help with the invitations and getting them sent out, Kahra. Personally, I can't wait for the day it becomes socially acceptable for people to do it electronically."

Kahra muttered something about how traditional wasn't always a bad thing, but had to admit that without the calligrapher, it would have been hell to do. And boy, had she been expensive. If Kahra had better handwriting and ever got tired of writing, she'd go into calligraphy and make a killing.

She changed the subject with, "You haven't even shown me any pictures of your dress. What's it like?"

"This is a the perfect wedding dress," Shashi said seriously, taking a left turn. "I saw it and all the other options flew out of my head. I was deliberating over three others, but this one laid all that to rest. It was practically designed for me, Kahra! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Yes. It's always nice when you find that one article of clothing that's just what you need," Kahra agreed as they turned into the parking lot.

Adriana's Bridal Emporium was the priciest dress shop in Zenmi, and Kahra had never actually been in it before. She'd sometimes stared through the windows and drooled over some of the designs, wondering what she would pick out if she could marry Kumaraten all over again. They'd wed before he landed his high-paying job in Tenkai Corporation, so they'd had to rent his tux and go for a decently-priced gown that had still managed to be expensive. Now, though, they could have afforded something much nicer, but probably not to Shashi's extent.

They were met by Adriana herself, a woman who was sixty-five but looked merely forty thanks to plastic surgery, working out, and dieting. Clearly Shashi was a valued customer, Kahra thought as she sipped some chai tea while Shashi put the gown on behind a screen. Well, she was probably paying extra to have it ready in time, and if Kahra knew Shashi, it had been one of the higher-end designs.

"Ready, Kahra?"

She looked up to see Shashi make her entrance, grinning proudly. And yes, it was a high-end garment. While Kahra's dress had politely murmured, "I'm elegant, notice my perfect figure too," Shashi's dress screamed, "Adore my body, and I'm so rich I can afford Swarovski detailing everywhere!"

It was a clingy mermaid-style gown, low-cut with molded plunge cups and lacing, strapless, and with a front slit on the skirt covered in sheer, embroidered tulle, and a train even longer than average. It was very lovely, but Kahra would never have worn it. _Her _gown had featured a full, gathered skirt, lace straps and a V-neck, and little detailing save for the vintage ivory rose she'd had sewn on in the middle of the neckline.

"What do you think of my wedding dress?" Shashi asked smugly, performing a little turn. "It's fabulous, isn't it?"

"It's stunning," Kahra honestly replied. "You look beautiful in it. Has Reginald –?"

"Reginald unfortunately wasn't with me when I picked it out, but he's seen pictures. He likes it too, and he says he can't wait to see me in it on the big day. I'll be the most beautiful bride in the history of the world!" her sister nearly cackled, something rather scary coming from a woman dressed like that.

Kahra nodded and thought that she was just lucky Shashi had gone for simple, sheath, lilac bridesmaids' dresses with V-necks. She probably wanted to make sure no one's cleavage rivaled hers, because hey, it was _her_ matrimonial production. Kahra did have to wonder if Aguni would clash with the lilac, though, as she was definitely a fire-toned woman. But oh well, if she did that wasn't the matron of honor's problem.

Shashi was saying, "And isn't the train a thing of beauty? I'll feel like a queen walking down that cathedral aisle! St. Ethelbert's is so lucky I'll be gracing it with my presence!"

St. Ethelbert's had been chosen by virtue of two properties. One: it was the biggest Anglican church in the city, and two: Bishamonten hadn't married Kisshouten there. He'd tried for it, but Kisshouten wasn't Anglican and they'd instead gone with the Presbyterian church she'd attended, which had been nice but not nearly as opulent as St. Ethelbert's. He had fondly told Shashi, "This is appropriate, ruby, because our love supersedes Kisshouten."

Kahra actually felt very sorry for Kisshouten, who from what she'd heard was handling this whole thing which much more aplomb than she herself would have been capable of. When she and Bishamonten were called upon to interact legally for the divorce, she kept her professional demeanor and didn't insult him, threaten him, or tell the lawyers, "Reginald is a cheating dirtbag, and I want him to die," because she actually didn't and he was only _technically_ a cheating dirtbag.

After all, Christmas Eve and all its sexy shenanigans had occurred only after she'd left him and started the proceedings, weeks later in fact. Bishamonten of course had seized this idea and clung to it whenever anyone muttered that he'd treated her badly. See, it was okay, really!

.

That Saturday was the day of the bridal shower, which Kahra hoped would turn out well. Tenou had been emphatically told to get out of the house, because Shashi didn't want her son seeing his mother getting sexy gifts.

She was excited for the shower, and who wouldn't be? She'd be getting free stuff! To up the loot, she'd invited nearly every woman she knew in the city of Zenmi. Some of them had declined, but she'd still had a good response. So alongside Kahra, Aguni, Souma, and Karura, she'd be having gym pals, all sorts of casual friends, and nurses, other doctors, and her boss from the clinic handing her stuff.

When that day rolled around, Bishamonten picked Tenou up and they headed off to see a movie ("Obelisks of the Gods," an epic fantasy flick that the dad thought looked dumb but the son was excited about). Kahra showed up early to set up refreshments, Shashi micromanaged and fretted over if she'd ordered enough pretzels, and up in Tenou's room, his guinea pig Tenma wondered why his cage had been moved from the living room to another one (potential allergic reactions).

When the doorbell rang a full twenty minutes before the start time, Shashi imperiously ordered, "Get the door, Kahra, and I'll keep mixing this onion dip."

Kahra nodded, obeyed, and refrained from cringing when Aguni Steel-Koumokuten grinned down and at her and greeted, "Ah, Kahra. I'm the first one here besides you, aren't I? Take off that apron honey, it makes you look like a maid."

Kahra had a couple urges now. The first one was to snarl, "Don't you call me 'honey,' I'm sixteen years older than you are!" The second one was to whimper in fear and close the door, because Aguni scared her and always had. The third one was grab Aguni's arm and hustle her into the kitchen, to make her help with the preparations. The fourth one was to smile and shove all those other urges down, because it wasn't worth it.

But Kumaraten was always telling her to be assertive, so she compromised. She smiled, let Aguni in, and murmured, "Please don't call me 'honey,' I dislike when anyone but Harold calls me that. I don't suppose you'd be able to help us since you're here early?"

"Sure," Aguni agreed, sounding a little surprised that Kahra had stood up for herself. But she said nothing else, and threw herself into the preparation, until two more guests came and Shashi decided the party should start now. Things were set up enough, and they'd have to refill some platters anyway.

And more guests kept arriving. Kahra met all sorts of women she'd never met before, from Dr. Gilbertson, who did indeed look like Mrs. Claus as Shashi had once described her; to Raven, a Goth babe from the gym; and women everywhere in between. She was surprised that so many had come, and had to wonder how many of them had been pressured into it. After all, Shashi was very good at pressure, she could attest to that, and the bride-to-be had quite an incentive to pack as many people in as she could.

"To Shashi, who's going to marry the man she lost for eighteen years, then found again!" Aguni proclaimed, hoisting her wine high in a toast. Everyone else assented, clinked their glasses, and basically gave Shashi the attention she so loved. Wasn't it _nice _to be an extrovert?

"Open mine first," Aguni insisted, setting her wine down and passing her best friend a box. "I thought of you and Reginald when I saw this in a catalog, and Xavier agreed it would be perfect for you two!"

Kahra had to wonder what it was. It was a small box, so it wasn't lingerie. Maybe it was a photo frame with lots of red gems on it and classy designs? Maybe it was some sort of jewelry? Maybe it was an electronic gadget that Bishamonten didn't yet have? Well, she'd know soon enough, she thought as her sister ripped the wrapping paper off and opened the box.

There was an immediate chorus of shocked gasps, intrigued gasps, and "Ooohs" as Shashi flushed a bit. Kahra could understand that very well, as lying in the box was a pair of padded handcuffs.

She was appalled, but Aguni gleefully told the world that, "Xavier and I got into BDSM just a few months ago, and it's great! And these are the comfortable kind, so you won't have to worry about bruised wrists." Her grin as she shared private details was very nearly scary, and completely perverted.

Kahra hoped Shashi would say, "I didn't need to know that, and that's horrible! Why would you cause your husband pain or want him to cause _you _pain? Take them back and get me a spa package instead."

But oh no… she grinned almost as pervertedly and nearly sang, "I'll have so much fun with these! I can cuff Reginald to the shower nozzle, or something."

She gave Aguni a hug, and there was an immediate chorus of suggestions, like, "Or cuff him to the headboard!" And, "No, cuff him to your dining room table!" And even, "Cuff his hands behind his back, blindfold him, and wear a domina hat and vinyl fetish boots while you make him your slave!"

This last one was from Dr. Gilbertson, and Kahra was now even more appalled. Karura arched a brow, a bit intrigued, and then decided that Zouchouten would probably break handcuffs like that so never mind. It was a scintillating little fantasy, but the chances of it translating well to reality weren't so good, even if he agreed to play along.

Souma hastily picked up her gift and nearly pleaded, "Here, Shashi, this one's mine. Open it!" Distraction from thoughts of Manslave Bishamonten and Koumokuten was the only way she'd get through this, she thought with a cringe.

Luckily, no other gifts had a bondage theme, not even Dr. Gilbertson's. By the time they'd all been opened, Shashi had gotten ten sets of lingerie, three gift certificates to lingerie stores, four sexy nighties, two gift certificates to shoe stores, chocolates, spa packages, and a ton of flavored body oil. Kahra herself had given her a book, Living with Men and Understanding the Stupid Things They Do, which wasn't a joke at all. Because really, men often did things women would never be dumb enough to try – well, most women, anyway.

Assisted by the wine, things started to get a tad out of control. Shashi loudly told everybody all about Christmas Eve, in minute detail. Souma shared that Taishakuten was a dick, and everyone who knew him agreed. Kahra started giggling uncontrollably at Aguni's story of Tamara's fight with her dad over whether or not she could leave the house in a miniskirt and tube top, because Aguni did an exaggerated impression of her stepdaughter that was hilarious. Dr. Gilbertson regaled them with a funny story from her medical school days.

As Kahra went back into the kitchen to get another bottle of wine, she heard Karura mutter to Souma, "Let's all pray my shower doesn't turn out like this."

The very next week, she found out that thankfully it didn't, mostly because it was so different than Shashi's. Only Souma, Shashi, Aguni, Kahra, Zouchouten's nieces, and Karyoubinga had been invited. Marie hadn't been able to make it, but had sent a gift and a card to be opened. Shashi and Aguni had exchanged "This is stupid" glances when informed that Karyoubinga would be present, and told to bring age-appropriate gifts. What kind of bridal shower was it without lingerie?

Kahra, on the other hand, was grateful for the little girl's presence. Good, this wouldn't be a repeat of Handcuffsgate.

After some refreshments and chatter, they all sat down in the living room to hand Karura her tribute. First off was Souma's gift, a lovely silver photo frame with feather motifs. Then came Marie's gift, a white, fluffy bathrobe monogrammed with "Ellen." Excellent, all kid-safe gifts, and the topics of conversation so far had been appropriate for Karyoubinga's ears; nobody had even said the words "sexy" or "sucks."

"Tell me Karyou," Souma smiled, "are you excited to be gaining a big brother-in-law?"

"Yeah!" Karyoubinga happily answered. "I love Aaron. And I'm excited to be moving into his mansion, too. I mean, it's a _mansion_. It has its own pool and everything! And my room will be much bigger, and I love Lola too, and Aaron says he'll let me walk her sometimes!"

"Thrilling," Souma grinned, with no sarcasm at all. She understood kids, and really, how many of them had their big sister get married when they were still seven? Very few, and such a move would have been exciting even to her.

"Lola is his dog, right?" Shashi tried to confirm, remembering a picture of a yellow Lab mix on Zouchouten's desk when she'd hit the golf ball into his office. She herself hated dogs, but hey, she still disliked Zouchouten so it made sense that his taste in animals didn't match hers.

"She is," Karura nodded. "A shelter dog, Aaron loves animals and wanted to rescue one. She's very sweet, right Karyou?" she encouraged, turning to her sibling.

"Yes. Sister," Karyoubinga said politely, "I have to use the bathroom. I'll be right back." And with that, she hopped off the couch and strolled to the door as Shashi and Aguni watched her, suddenly worrisome expressions on their faces.

Kahra knew what was coming, and she was not disappointed. The second Karyou was out of sight, Shashi leaned in and whispered, "Quick, everybody talk about sex while she's gone!" Wasting no time, she turned to Karura and smirked, "Ellen, we all know about the office sex, but tell us all about everywhere else! Like the backseat of a car, or on the very couch you're sitting on, or the –"

"That's _private_," Karura snapped, as Kahra nodded fervently. "No. I'm not saying a word. Let's talk about something else, right Nina?"

She undoubtedly expected Souma to reply, "That's right! Men are icky, and I'd rather discuss acid rain and plagues than think about a naked man." Instead, she got a wink and a knowing, "I'll bet you _did _do it on the couch, huh?"

Karura turned bright pink, and downright snarled, "This subject is closed, and if you people can't be mature I'll go into another room myself. Kahra, tell your sister and everyone else to drop it."

"Like she said," Kahra said fervently, pinning Shashi with a disapproving look. "Despite this being the age of full disclosure, some things should be kept between two people, don't you think? It makes many of us uncomfortable when you try to pry, so let it go, Shashi," she pleaded, clasping her hands she was so desperate.

"All right, fine," Shashi said, and just when Kahra thought she was safe, she continued with, "Reginald likes car sex. And Kahra honey, I know for a _fact _that Harold likes –"

"If he were here he'd yell at you right now, so shut up," Kahra growled in reply, making everyone else blink in shock. After all, she was the nice sister, the one who was quiet and demure and hopelessly incapable of hurting anyone's feelings. She'd tell little white lies instead of risking somebody feeling upset, and she never confronted Shashi. _Ever._

The confronted queen glared at her, but before this room could become a battlefield, Souma jumped in with, "Ellen, how _is_ Lola?"

It was a clear distraction ploy, but Karura seized it and smiled, "She's doing very well. I'm not worried about her being upset when we move in, at all. It's the birds I'm concerned about, because Garuda in particular hates change, and here he'll be moving into a new aviary. A bigger one, but change is still hard."

"I don't know how you can have animals living in your house," Aguni said, with a rather disgusted look on her face. "I'd think they'd be messy and wreck your property. Xavier said Tamara used to have a rabbit, and it chewed through the TV wire one day when she disobeyed him and let it run around on the floor. Naturally it got electrocuted, so not only did he have to buy a new TV, he had to deal with her tears and burying its body."

"That's sad," Kahra sighed, wondering what kind of awful person cared more about a TV than a living being.

Just then Karyoubinga came back in, and the gift-giving went on. Shashi gave Karura a gift certificate to a spa, and then, with a grin, Aguni handed her a flat box and trilled, "My gift's better than all the others!"

When Karura opened it, they all saw that it was a g-string, one that was sky blue with little cloud patterns, and said "Queen." It also had silver chains and charms of birds, and Kahra had to admit that it would probably look great on Karura. The recipient of such lingerie sputtered for a moment, incensed that Aguni had ignored the "PG" warning, as Karyoubinga stared quizzically at the thing.

"Sister," she asked, cocking her head, "is that underwear?"

"Technically," Karura muttered, shooting the evilly smiling Aguni a furious glare. "Never mind, Karyou."

She hid it under some wrapping paper, privately thinking that maybe she should bring it with her on her honeymoon. Still, that bitch! Karyoubinga would be scarred for life! Yes Karura had had "The Talk" with her little sister, but she hadn't gone into much detail, nor had she addressed the issue of undergarments that were meant to turn people on.

Karyoubinga wondered about this, and decided to ask the kids at school tomorrow why some underwear was made so it didn't cover much at all.

.

"Harold," Kahra said one day in April, "I'm off to Ellen's bachelorette party."

"Don't do anything stupid," Kumaraten fervently replied, remembering his own bachelor party. His buddies had bought him so many rounds that he'd thought it'd be a great idea to try breakdancing, which he'd never had the slightest desire to do before. Needless to say, it had resulted in bruises.

"Don't worry, the invitation said there'll be no alcohol, probably because she saw what happened at Shashi's bridal shower and wanted to avoid a repeat," she reassured him. "That's Ellen for you: even if society says do something one way, if she doesn't think it's a good idea she won't do it. She even said to bring some CDs for music, and I'm bringing my Josh Groban collection."

She mentally added, _I hope Aguni doesn't bring Nicki Minaj, or some horrible metal stuff, or dark epic movie soundtracks, I know for a fact that her husband has a ton of those. And I hope Shashi doesn't make us all hear her Madonna collection for the zillionth time. I'm getting sick of the "Confessions on a Dance Floor" album._

"Well honey, have a nice time," Kumaraten smiled. "But I have to ask… why did she invite Xavier's wife and your sister in the first place?"

Kahra admitted, "I think because she kind of had to. After all, they'll be the three wives of the Senior VP trio, they'll have to learn to get along anyway. And she's probably trying to keep Aaron happy, palling around with his friends' significant others, even though he dislikes both of them," she allowed before Kumaraten could say it.

"Well, Nina will be there at least," he sighed, then gave her a kiss on the cheek, told her goodbye, and watched her leave.

Oh, his poor wife. He wouldn't want to be anywhere near Shashi and Aguni for a bachelorette party. Then again, he didn't want to be anywhere near Taishakuten and Koumokuten for a bache_lor_ party, which was where he himself was headed soon.

When Kahra arrived at the Sky Castle hotel, she was directed to one of the party rooms, where not only Karura, Souma, Aguni, and Shashi were waiting, but a pregnant African-American babe with blue eyes, an Asian lady who looked like she could kick your spine out through your back, and a pair of super-skinny blondes who resembled each other quite a bit.

The pregnant one was introduced as, "Marie Kennedy, Aaron's brother Elbert's daughter. Marie recently got married herself to her husband David." The Asian lady was, "Carol Yuan, my kung fu instructor." The taller blonde with green eyes was, "Debra Cartwright, Aaron's sister Mary Jo's oldest daughter," and the shorter blonde with golden eyes was, "Vivica Cartwright, her younger sister," both of which Kahra vaguely remembered from the bridal shower.

The Backstreet Boys were put on the sound system first because Karura loved them, sparkling juice was passed around, and while Aguni tried to have Karura switch the CD to Static-X, Karura put her foot down and all was well. And then, there was a knock on the door.

"Oh, you should get it, Ellen," Shashi said maternally. "It's your party, after all. Maybe somebody sent you flowers, or something."

But when Karura opened the door with a slightly confused frown, no flowers greeted her. Instead, she saw four buff, handsome men wearing outfits that looked like UPS but with no logo, and with shirts unbuttoned pretty far down and very tight pants. She frowned at them even harder and asked, "Yes? What do you want?"

"We're the delivery boys," the first guy told her, smiling with perfect teeth. "We're here to give you your recommended dose of… pecs, abs, broad shoulders, and of course pa–"

"If you say 'packages,' " the completely offended and suddenly furious Karura snarled, "I will punch you so hard every one of those capped teeth will fall out. Male strippers?! Who booked me male strippers?!" she yelled, making all four of them take an involuntary step back.

"Well I just don't know," Aguni said innocently. Her wicked smile gave it away, though, and judging by the way Shashi was snickering, it had been a team effort of "Make Karura Uncomfortable."

Kahra wanted to go cry in a corner. Her sister had fallen to the dark side, and poor pitiable Karura! She'd expressly requested a nice, quiet evening with fun music and no alcohol, and here she'd gotten men who would whip their clothes off and make awful puns. And probably hit on her to try to make her pay for a "private show," yikes.

"Ellen," Souma sighed, glaring at the instigators of such inappropriate folly, "do you want me to call Aaron and tell him what's going on? He'll yell at them so loudly through the phone that –"

"I'll take care of this _myself_," the bride-to-be proclaimed, clenching her fists. "Aaron will explode when I tell him, so I hope Shashi and Aguni are ready to be yelled at. But in the meantime… go away!" she directed at the first guy. "If you don't, I'm calling the police, but only after I demonstrate why my kung fu class calls me 'Killer Karura.' "

"Hey, look, we're already here and we were _told _to be here," the second man protested, unwilling to let this chance of getting tips go that easily. "Give us a try! If you don't want to see too much, we'll just go shirtless and –"

"Don't make me assume the 'ready' stance, pervert," Karura snarled, as Souma did just that.

"Okay, okay!" the third guy whined. "But we showed up and we're charging for it even if she's making us leave. If you have a problem with that, our boss will ta–"

"No need to bring in the lawyers," Aguni sighed as she went for her purse. "I didn't think she'd be such a wuss about this, but fair's fair. Now," she pulled out her checkbook, "it was six hundred, don't try to raise it and pull the wool over my eyes."

After the male strippers had left, some of them grumbling under their breaths about coming all the way here and only getting a flat fee, Souma shut the door firmly and snapped, "I can't believe you did that to her! Are you _trying _to upset her?! God, you're both bitchier than I thought if that's the case. She's _obviously _in love with Aaron and has no desire to look at other men!"

Before a verbal or physical fight could break out, Marie diplomatically cracked, "His 'packages' line was straight out of a porno. What is it about men that makes them think something like that's clever and smooth and not stupid?"

"I don't understand the male brain," Souma sighed, going back to her juice. "Maybe they really are from Mars."

"No more sex talk," Karura decreed. "Instead, let's talk about advice for a marriage. Marie," she said firmly, having realized that she was the only married one present besides Aguni, "what does one have to do to keep a marriage running?"

Marie almost asked, "You mean besides sex? Because couples who don't get it on at least semi-regularly usually have a few problems," but instead smiled and replied, "Listening and compromise. And patience, and always make sure to do fun things together whenever you can, yet take time for yourself too. But you know, really, I'm still a newlywed myself, so what do you have to offer, Aguni?"

"You mean besides have sex as often as you can? Because couples who don't do that are hiding some sort of problem," Aguni smirked, and before Karura could snap that she'd asked not to talk about that she went on, "And make sure to never go to bed angry if you can help it. Don't let minor squabbles poison your happiness. Oh, and if you have a child, start the discipline as soon as possible and be consistent with it."

Visions of a mini, white-haired Tamara with Zouchouten's eyes flashed into Karura's head, and she fervently replied, "Don't worry, when that time comes we'll make sure to be listen to all the research and be excellent parents. For one, we'll insist that our child take responsibility for things they do. And I think the threat of their father bellowing at them should keep them in line," she concluded, smiling proudly.

"I raised Tenou well," Shashi bragged, as she often did. "But the best-laid plans go awry, and then you'll find yourself dealing with them wanting to be a rock star when they were _supposed _to be a pediatrician. Unfortunately, Reginald thinks our son the chord-crunching future metal icon is a normal thing, and bought him that stupid electric."

Kahra recalled that particular rant, and apparently Shashi still hadn't let it go. Bishamonten buying Tenou a guinea pig had been a-okay with her, but not buying him a Gibson. Oh well, at least the music was decent and was getting better every day.

"Oh, husbands sometimes do stupid things, but you win some and you lose some," Marie said wisely, twirling the stem of her glass of sparkling juice. "But at the end of the day, he's still the man you love, the one you chose over everybody else in the world, no matter what his faults are."

"Yes. For example, Aaron's stupid coffee addiction," Karura sighed, sounding exasperated. "It's like trying to talk to a surly grizzly bear in the mornings until he gets his first mug, and then he's back to being his true self. I'm trying to wean him off of it, and he's trying too, but it's hard. The sooner he's kicked the caffeine, the happier we'll both be."

"Does Grizzly Aaron say things like, 'Don't touch me, my head hurts'?" Souma asked, fighting back a grin at the mental vision of a huge, light blue bear baring its teeth at a negligee-clad Karura.

Karura sighed, "No, he's just short with everybody. He stops himself from being too mean, but I can tell he's pissed. Anyway, enough about that. When he's not in withdrawal, he's the perfect fiancé. He isn't afraid to talk about his feelings, we have such nice conversations, and he walks around with his shirt off when I ask him to. We're soulmates," she boasted with a grin.

"It's all well and good to love your partner and think he's attractive in all sorts of ways, but when you get down to it, there's one thing he's got to have or your bedroom life will be disappointing," Shashi proclaimed, remembering Taishakuten. "I think we all know what I'm talking about. Don't we, Aguni?" she directed at her BFF.

Aguni grinned, nodded, and mentioned a very nice measurement, which made Marie go, "That guy? For real?"

Shashi immediately bragged about her man, who had Koumokuten slightly beat, and grinned, "See? I told you Reginald is better, Aguni. It might be hard to top that!"

Karura flushed and muttered something about porn star dimensions as Souma snapped, "Didn't she already say she didn't want to talk about sex? What kind of pervert are you, Aguni? Shashi, you too, really."

"I'm not a _pervert_," Aguni protested in an offended tone. "I just have a healthy sexuality, unlike a repressed loser like _you_."

Here she was lying: she was _indeed _a pervert, and once hit on a kickboxing opponent by grinning, "Don't worry, my pearl, I'll be careful not to ruin your face when I beat the living daylights out of you." Leaving aside the S & M, she was an insatiable little person, which made her husband ever so happy. After all, his first wife had once locked him out of the bedroom on Valentine's Day.

Averting another fight, Kahra broke in with, "The CD's done. Should I throw on another one?"

"Sure," Karura smiled. "Put on 'Millennium,' I never get tired of 'Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely.' Isn't a pity that they've teamed up with the New Kids on the Block? Their songs were so much better before."

And with that, the party went on, and there were no more intimate topics brought up.

.

As Kahra was learning more than she'd ever wanted to know about Bishamonten and Koumokuten, those very men were slapping Zouchouten on each shoulder and smirking, "…And _that's _what makes a marriage."

"You do realize I was married before," Zouchouten pointed out, then amended, "Then again, I _was _in my early twenties back then, so maybe the advice of mature men will actually be useful."

Kumaraten, who'd had no idea that this would be his boss's second marriage, wondered what else he'd missed. What did he really know about Zouchouten outside of the office? He liked animals, he liked kids, he liked music, he liked hiking and nature, he was a nice guy until you threatened someone or something he cared about… but other than that, Kumaraten realized he didn't know that much about the man whose wedding he was going to be in.

_Well Harold, _he thought to himself, _brace yourself for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he's secretly got a weird fetish, and when he gets drunk, he'll blabber on about his fiancée's sexy feet or something._

Nope, he wouldn't. If Zouchouten had a fetish it was a straight Karura fetish, because she could be a scarred, blinded, bald, quadruple amputee and he'd adore her. He _had _kissed her feet a couple times, but that was all about, "Look how devoted to you I am, you gorgeous babe! And now, let me move up your leg and we'll see where that takes us."

Kumaraten sipped his beer and looked around the table. Simply everyone was here at this bachelor party, for the male side of Tenkai Corporation. Besides Bishamonten and Koumokuten, Taishakuten had deigned to grace the gathering with his oh-so-important presence, Victor Kujaku and James Yasha were here too and sitting next to each other (what a _coincidence_), and Koumokuten had managed to get Zouchouten to agree to having Edward Varuna and Charles Vahyu be here as well.

Elbert had been here, but had gotten bored, made an excuse, and taken off. Oliver had had something else going on, leaving Zouchouten with no family members to be part of this. But actually, Elbert was a jerk and Oliver was boring, so that was okay.

"Women," Bishamonten said seriously as he raised his wine in a toast, "are wonderful beings. Let's all go around and talk about our ideal woman. Harold, why don't you go first?" he smiled, in "brother-in-law" mode.

"I like former nuns," Kumaraten sighed, contentedly.

"I like lesbians," Varuna sighed, longingly.

"I like Amazons who can beat up anyone they want to, and light things on fire, and think I'm sexy," Koumokuten sighed, happily. "Let's be honest, that's rare."

"I like gorgeous doctors who do sexy things in the backseat of my car," Bishamonten sighed, lustfully. "With enthusiasm."

"I like Ellen, who's just about perfect," Zouchouten sighed, fondly.

"I like Karl, who isn't a woman at all," Taishakuten sighed, exasperatedly.

"I like Karl too," Vahyu sighed, stupidly. Taishakuten's granite eyes narrowed, and Vahyu immediately backpedaled with, "But of course I'd never hit on Mr. Taishakuten's man!"

"Yes you would," Kujaku smirked, and Kumaraten noted that he hadn't said what kind of "women" he liked. "You hit on everybody, Charles. You hit on a janitor, and the waiter, and a visiting Pakistani CEO, which was why he started screaming about how Allah should smite America and wipe it off the map. Way to go, Charlie."

"He was a _sexy _Pakistani CEO," Vahyu protested, "and I thought he was Hispanic! He wasn't wearing a turban, so how was I supposed to know?!"

"Maybe by his _name?_" Yasha sniped. "Mohammad al-Muhammad? I realize that your brain doesn't work the same way mine does, but even someone like _you _should realize that's not a Hispanic name. Maybe you were too busy staring at his crotch to notice, though," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

Vahyu sniffed and tossed his hair, not deigning to answer that one. Kumaraten was glad about that, since he'd once heard Vahyu give an impassioned impromptu hallway lecture on why every man should be at least bisexual, and how in Greek and Roman times it was the norm. Kumaraten had thought about mentioning how the Classical homosexual relationship was an older man and a boy, but then decided that he'd just keep walking.

"Speaking of crotch-gazing," Bishamonten was saying, "did you see the hostess check me out when we came in?" He sounded proud of that, something Kumaraten wasn't surprised by in the least.

"She checked a lot of us out," Varuna replied happily. "I feel so manly now! Maybe she'll come hit on somebody."

Vahyu sneered, "What a slut," in a tone of voice that intimated he was holding himself back from saying something worse.

Everyone else gave him looks, ones that were not only disapproving but incredulous at his hypocrisy. Kumaraten was almost positive that if she'd been a host instead, Vahyu would be hitting on that host, flirting all through the party, and eventually either taking him home or wandering off with him for a couple minutes. Gawd, that man's life was like a gay porn flick, Kumaraten thought in disgust.

Taishakuten, not having the same instinct for holding his tongue that the engineer possessed, snapped, "Charles, your double standard is awe-inspiring. People like you are the reason I was in the closet for so long." He pinned Vahyu with an unnerving, icy gaze, and continued, "It's not wise to give your highest boss a bad name."

Kumaraten watched intently and with a kind of quiet joy as Vahyu turned pale, and quickly responded with, "Sorry! I wasn't trying to make you look bad! I mean, you're so much more, um, _monogamous_ than I am, and brilliantly smart too! Don't fire me, please. And don't hurt me either."

Taishakuten said nothing in reply, just smiled that enigmatic little smile and sipped some more wine. Obviously trying to break the sudden awkward silence, Yasha murmured, "I've forgotten where you're having your honeymoon, Aaron."

"The Virgin Islands," Zouchouten smiled. "We would have _liked _to go somewhere in Mexico, but a wealthy Senior VP and his wife would be incredibly tempting to the drug lords. We'd have to be surrounded by bodyguards, and that isn't optimal for a honeymoon, obviously. No, we rented a private bay with a nice beach house with all the amenities, including maids who'll hopefully stay out of sight as much as possible."

"Shashi and I are going to Tahiti," Bishamonten bragged. "Harold, it was so nice of you to agree to have Tenou over for the honeymoon."

"You're welcome," Kumaraten smiled. Personally he thought Tenou would have been just fine at his house by himself, but Shashi had insisted that he stay with his aunt and uncle in case something went wrong. Maybe she was afraid he'd invite the neighbors over for a party?

From there the conversation switched to that staple of manly interactions, sports. Seeing as he disliked professional sports and had even gotten fed up with the Olympics last summer (whee, Michael Phelps won yet another medal, let's saturate the airwaves with praise instead of showing other competitions), Kumaraten was soon bored out of his mind. But he could console himself that there was no more confrontation except of the "My team is better than your team" variety, and when it was time to go, he thought things had turned out pretty well, considering.

.

It was now the afternoon of April 19th, and the anticipation in the skyscraper was nearly palpable. Well, okay, only on the Senior VP floor and the parts of R & D that were excited for their boss, but still, palpable! Zouchouten and Karura had both taken today off from work, and Kumaraten was psyching himself up for the rehearsal this evening. He could take some consolation in the fact, however, that this would not be a religious ceremony.

Karura and Zouchouten had chosen a secular wedding, seeing as he was an atheist and she wasn't about to insist on something religious if he thought like that. And to be honest, people yammering on about God annoyed her, even though she _was _Christian. So they'd gone the route of no religious speeches at all, written their own vows, and found a magistrate friend to officiate.

The magistrate's name was Kieran O'Leary, and he was one of those incorrigibly peppy people. Personally Karura wished he were a bit more toned down, but he was nice and he'd agreed to this on pretty short notice, considering. He had bright orange hair, freckles, a roly-poly shape, and was actually shorter than the bride, which meant that the groom towered over him by a full two feet. Then again, Zouchouten tended to tower over everybody, save men of Masai descent.

Not that Kumaraten knew all that yet. Nope, he didn't even know the guy's name. He _did _know that he was supposed to be at the Southland City Park Pavilion at five PM today, and to be prepared for some drama, it was practically inevitable. After all, he'd be dealing with Koumokuten, and everybody knew that Koumokuten was not easy to deal with.

_Deep breaths, Harold, _Kumaraten told himself as he drove home. _What can the man really do to you? Be rude? You've come a long way from middle school, when you had to go cry behind the slides when Doug McGuffin teased you about being inept in gym class. This is a social thing, so he can't fire you for annoying him at a wedding rehearsal, not that Aaron would let him do that anyway._

Half an hour later, he sighed to Kahra, who was doing yet another Shashi task, "Honey, wish me luck. Don't overextend yourself on that – what is that?"

"I'm calculating the tips for various wedding services, like the caterer and the florist. No, I'm not going to have to pay them!" she hastened to assure him before he could get mad. "It's coming out of Shashi and Reginald's pockets, although she did delegate me to hand them over to the providers on the big day, which makes sense, Harold. She'll be so busy anyway."

He smiled, nodded, and left, wondering what else his wife would find herself roped into doing – sorry, "delegated" into doing. He was willing to bet there would be a lot of last-minute, "Kahra dear, won't you help me out by (insert chore here)?" And it'd work every time, since Kahra was a natural helper.

It was cloudy when he got to the city park, which he fervently hoped wouldn't mean it would be rainy tomorrow. That was the thing about outdoor weddings: if the weather didn't cooperate, your big day was ruined. Yes there was a pavilion, but some of the guests would be getting soaked, as would the bride when she walked up the aisle of a carpet and floral arrangements.

In fact, such a situation was why Shashi and Bishamonten had decided to forgo their initial plan of tying the knot outside. However, they _were_ planning to take most of the photographs outside on the grounds of the church, which by that time would have cherry trees in full bloom. Then again, if it rained they'd have to go inside after all, but oh well.

Kumaraten parked his car, used some hand sanitizer as a comforting motion, and walked over to the gathering in front of the pavilion. Souma was there, smiling with Karura; Koumokuten was there, making a nasty comment about Varuna to Zouchouten; Bishamonten was there, doing something probably wedding-related on his phone; Karyoubinga was there, looking really excited; and a number of other people Kumaraten had never met before were there, looking excited, pleased, overeager, sleepy, and at Bishamonten with an interested expression.

He was now introduced to the excited Kieran, who pumped his hand with a cheery greeting. Then he was introduced to Marie, the pleased-looking niece. Then Debra, the overeager-looking niece who seemed rarin' to go; Vivica, the niece who kept eyeing Bishamonten; he was reintroduced to Elbert, the bored-looking middle-aged man who had also gotten his brother's big bones, but had let the muscle go mostly to seed; and met Jake, the ringbearer who needed a nap. He also met the singer Clarissa, one of those artsy types, and the photographer Toby, one of those dorky types.

"Now that we're all here," Kieran burbled, "let's begin!"

In no time at all, it was time for the recession. Souma gulped as Kieran sang, "And now, the maid of honor and the best man! Walk down the aisle together, and remember to smile!"

Souma cringed, and took Koumokuten's arm like he was a deadly poison that would get into her bloodstream when she touched him. He glowered and held it as far away from his body as he could, like he was matter and she was antimatter, which exploded on contact with each other.

Kumaraten felt like pointing and guffawing. Ha, enemies having to play nice! This was funnier than a whole season of "Saturday Night Live"… the old-school seasons with John Belushi and Gilda Radner, even.

"Righty-ho-ho, now walk down the aisle," Kieran prompted, making a shooing motion with his hands. "Stately, measured steps, keep time with each other – Xavier, I said _stately_, not stomped! Bless his soul, the man's a Neanderthal!"

Koumokuten opened his mouth to say something no doubt rude, but Zouchouten shot him a look and he hastily closed it. He toned down the stomping and went to stately steps, wondering if maybe he _shouldn't_ try to trip Souma after all. If he did, Zouchouten might take him aside later and either yell or smack him, or perhaps both. Oh well… maybe he could "accidentally" spill wine on her dress at the reception.

Despite Koumokuten and Souma having to redo their walk, the rehearsal had gone well. Kumaraten decided that this might actually be fun, and that maybe posing for all those pictures wouldn't be so bad. He'd make sure to look his best, and maybe Kahra would say something like, "Oh Harold, you look so _dashing! _Before we leave, let's do something surreptitiously sexy really fast, okay?"

Ah yes, he liked surreptitiously sexy things, and sexy things period. That was the one area of his life where bacteria and other pathogens were pushed to the back of his mind, and it wasn't like he and Kahra worked out all day and then got it on, ew. Nope, being clean for sex was nice, and then, hey, you could get clean afterwards _together. _Not that they'd do anything _that_ involved after getting all dressed up, but maybe she'd decide to –

"Blow me, Elbert," Koumokuten was snarling, making him blink and snap out of it. Whoa, what had he missed in the fifteen seconds he'd been thinking about his wife? He looked around, and saw cringing Debra, shocked Kieran, gaping Vivica, grinning Jake, and Marie with her eyebrows raised, not to mention glowering Zouchouten and glaring Karura, who had just clapped her hands over the startled Karyoubinga's ears.

Koumokuten continued, "Your 'ugly' comment was uncalled for, fatso. I'll look better in my tux than you will, you prick of a balloo–"

"Xavier! Elbert! Both of you, stop it!" Karura snapped with absolute authority. "Behave, I mean it. If you do _anything _like this tomorrow, I'll beat you with one of my shoes once the ceremony concludes. Apologize, and let it go, do you hear me?"

"Sorry," Elbert mumbled, red-faced.

"Sorry," Koumokuten said as sweetly as he could, but with a narrowing of eyes at his foe.

Kumaraten stayed silent, and thought, _Well Harold, if that happens, at least you can stay out of it. In fact, if it does, it will deflect all attention from you. Sure you might be caught in one of the press shots, but maybe you'll be out of focus in favor of Xavier getting beaten up by a shoe, hopefully one with a big heel._

_._

Poor unfortunate Kumaraten, his dashing appearance the next day did not result in anything surreptitiously sexy. Kahra did at least say how handsome he looked and gave him a kiss, after which he replied, "Honey, you look very nice too. I love that dress. You know, um, we have a little time before –"

"Traffic could be bad, Harold. It is after all a Saturday. Now come along, we can't have you being late," she chided, pulling him with her out to the garage.

And so they drove along in the sunlight (the clouds had passed during the night), grateful for climate change. After all, with such an unusually warm and early spring, an outdoor wedding in April would be just fine this year, but it wouldn't have been in most of the years before. And since such trends would only intensify, maybe they would never have to shovel again.

That was the benefit of living in Zenmi. Most of the rest of the country had been bombarded with snow, but here in a state that was usually buried under snow from November to April and sometimes longer, the shifting weather patterns had resulted in the easiest winter on record, save of course for the major blizzard they'd gotten on Christmas Eve.

Anyway, Kahra even rolled the window down halfway through the drive, as Kumaraten fiddled with his cufflinks and psyched himself up. At least his wife would be seated pretty near the front, so he could smile at her and be reassured when all those people looking at him got to be too much. And really, they were much more likely to be looking at Karura and Zouchouten, so it would probably be just fine.

When he arrived, he was hustled over the rest of the groomsmen, and noted the white and blue flowers Zouchouten had as a boutonniere. Yep, it was a theme: Karura's coloring, and he had blue flowers himself, alongside everybody else. Bishamonten was looking drop-dead gorgeous in his tux, even Kumaraten had to admit it; Koumokuten had worn silver hoop earrings in a nod to his pal's intended; Elbert had trimmed his beard so it was natty; and Kumaraten himself was wearing the _special _hair thing, the gold-colored one instead of the purple one.

"Are you excited, Aaron?" he asked the groom rather needlessly, making Koumokuten roll his eyes. Zouchouten just grinned and replied, "You have no idea. I want to thank all of you for being a part of this, it means an awful lot to me."

"You know, I've never been in a secular wedding before," Elbert said, sounding a bit contemplative. "You know Mom would've flown off the handle about this."

It was pretty much like a religious wedding, really, except no blessings in the name of a bearded old guy in the clouds would be given, and all the readings were from sources other than the Bible and never mentioned God (yay). It had the same format: procession, opening remarks, readings, vows, ring exchange, pronouncement of husband and wife, that iconic kiss, closing remarks, and recession. And they'd really personalized it, choosing readings that had special meaning to them and a poem Karura had written herself.

Kumaraten had to imagine some of the religious guests would get offended at the complete lack of the Big G, but seriously, this wasn't _their _wedding, and to make the bride and groom incorporate something that made them uncomfortable was dumb. Kumaraten had suffered through his Catholic wedding as a newly minted atheist, and while it had still been the happiest day of his life, he'd been very uncomfortable for parts of it. Then again, he'd agreed to go along with it for Kahra, so he had no one to really blame but himself.

Soon, the guests were seated, the music was popped into the stereo, parents with little kids frantically shushed them, and the wedding began. Kumaraten could see Taishakuten and Ashuraou in the front row, Ashuraou smiling benevolently and Taishakuten looking a little sour. Could it be that the CEO was still resenting not being part of the wedding party? Well ha-ha, this just meant he'd lost at something, Kumaraten thought smugly.

He returned his attention to the aisle, just as Karura began her walk. Wow, if ever a woman had been born to be a bride, she would've been it.

Her dress was beautiful. It was a mermaid silhouette as well, gathered in the back with lace shaped like a mandala of feathers (not that he'd be able to see that until later), and featured cloth wrapped around her torso and no sleeves. It wasn't nearly as low-cut as Shashi's, but it showed off her figure and complimented her pale coloring. Her earrings were pearl drops, her necklace was pearls with a crystal feather pendant, and the veil almost looked like it was feathered on the ends.

_Avian symbolism galore, _Kahra thought to herself as Karura passed by. _Well, she is very regal, like some sort of swan, and she likes birds, I know that for a fact._

She had nobody giving her away, something that had raised more than a few eyebrows. But she'd explained it at the rehearsal like this: "Nobody could hope to take the place of my dad. Not to mention, giving the bride away is a remnant of patriarchal times, when the father handed the female property off to her new owner. I could've handled such a tradition with my dad, but not Great-Uncle Tom."

Kahra thought she was putting up too much of a fuss about it, but hey, if this wedding could use a reading from a book entitled Living, Loving, and Laughing as a Warrior Woman, it could handle the bride giving herself away.

Karura took Zouchouten's hand, and that was that. Score one for non-traditional weddings, and Kahra had to wonder how many of the older relatives on both sides were thinking, _New-fangled ideas? In __my__ kin's wedding?! Jesus, let me take this opportunity to apologize on their behalf._

Well, they'd have to be pretty rigidly religious to fault Kieran's opening remarks. The man was good, could be surprisingly serious when appropriate, and make everybody smile or laugh at other times. Kumaraten chanced a chance over at Kujaku, who again was sitting next to Yasha. The secretary was beaming, probably wondering if he could get Kieran to talk to him one-on-one and ask him if he knew any other good jokes, and Yasha was smiling too, probably not wondering anything of the sort.

When it was time for the poem Karura had written, Kumaraten found himself impressed. Hmm, who knew Ellen "Ice Queen" Karura could write something like that? His favorite stanza was the one that went like this:

"When I see you,  
I see someone who was always there for me  
When you see me,  
You see someone who would give her life for thee  
You move my soul and make me know what it's like to fly  
And you've told me before I make you think of open sky  
We are the ones we'll never lose,  
Forever and a day,  
With faithful hearts and open arms,  
We'll make it through the fray."

Sappiness overload? Yep, but a number of people were getting all misty-eyed, Kahra included. Taishakuten seemed to be holding himself back from making a face though, and Kumaraten was really, _really _glad that neither Zouchouten nor Karura could see him right then.

The vows were equally sappy, but Kumaraten would take them over Koumokuten and Aguni's godawful fire-referencing idiocy any day. He couldn't see the rings too well when they were brought out, but he'd seen Karura's engagement band before, and it was a platinum solitaire, much more understated than the BLINGGG Taishakuten had bought Shashi, or the mere bling Bishamonten had bought her at a later date. And hmm, Zouchouten's band was platinum too.

"… I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," Kieran urged with a beatific smile, as Karyoubinga sniffled happily. And that was just what happened, to cheers and a couple whistles, while even Taishakuten clapped along with a slight upwards turn of his lips.

Kumaraten smiled much harder and clapped too, thinking to himself, _Harold ol' boy, just think – if not for your office, this might not be happening. …Okay, it probably still would be, but you can feel proud anyway, go right ahead._

Seeing as this wedding had been in the late morning, this meant there were a couple hours to kill until the reception in the afternoon. Of course, a ridiculous amount of time was taken up by all the pictures, and by the time they were done with that, Kumaraten wanted to punch Toby the photographer. How did the man expect him to smile naturally when he'd been smiling for half an hour anyway, being told to move right or left, and getting annoyed at Jake acting up?

Oh, taking _his _wedding pictures had been much better. Not to mention the photographer had been a friend of his, not some dork off the street. But he persevered, looked over to Kahra for a more natural smile, and made it through.

They whiled away the hours until the wedding reception by wandering around the park, getting some coffee while in a tux and a nice dress (and thus explaining to the multiple observers who asked about this that they'd just been at a wedding), and hanging around at the reception hall talking to the other guests and such. Finally the doors were opened, and the reception began.

It was a nice reception, and Kumaraten was pleasantly surprised that when it came time for the toasts, Koumokuten kept his act PG, no doubt because he'd been threatened into it. The word "hell" showed up once, as did the word "sucks," but other than that Karyoubinga and company were safe. Although really, each and every one of them had heard worse from friends, classmates, and/or TV, but oh well.

Kahra couldn't help but notice, however, that Koumokuten had given Souma a number of nasty looks throughout the dinner. And once the dancing started in earnest, a quiet confrontation occurred in a corner.

Now Koumokuten gave Souma a smug smile, and told her, "I've figured out why you're such a witch – you've secretly been in love with Taishakuten all along. That's why you send him glares when his back's turned, because he spurned your feelings. Don't bother to deny it, I'm a social genius who knows what I'm seeing."

"I'm not in love with Taishakuten!" she hissed, poking him in the chest as hard as she could. "Leaving aside the fact that he's a monster, I'm a _lesbian_, you idiot!"

He blinked, very surprised by this. Then again, Souma turned down every hopeful male coworker who asked her out. And often made comments about the patriarchy and how homosexuality shouldn't be stigmatized. But wait, if she liked _women_, then –

"Stay away from my wife," he snarled as quietly as he could. "She's mine! And she thinks you're a bitch anyway, and it's a _fact _that she adores –"

A sudden swell of laughter mercifully drowned his next words out.

"– Plus my pecs and six-pack, none of which you have!" he finished, glaring at the horrible feminazi here to steal Aguni. Who would of course turn her down and yell at her, but hey, he was being masculine and protective.

Souma just gave him a look that would have killed vermin, and snapped, "I have no designs on Aguni _whatsoever_. Not only is she bitchy, she's disturbed! And I don't like women whose shoulders are as wide as some men's, or whose hair is stuck in the '80s!"

Relieved that Souma wasn't about to try to "recruit" his wife (because lesbians always did that, he was sure), Koumokuten barely noticed the insults to his fire goddess. Great, Souma could go be a dyke with somebody else, because Aguni was too good for her. She was out of her league, obviously, but guess who'd been lucky enough to marry the sexy Amazon? Ha, Xavier Koumokuten won again!

Back on the dance floor, Kumaraten whispered to Kahra, "I have never heard so many Celine Dion songs in one place. And I'm guessing there are some I don't know, too. Honey, is Ellen a fan?"

"Must be," Kahra agreed. "But Aaron seems to be humming along to 'Right in Front of You,' so maybe they both like her. I _can _tell you that she likes the Backstreet Boys, and probably 'N Sync too, if 'This I Promise You' was any indication."

Kumaraten smiled, nodded, and thought to himself that Morten Harket's "Can't Take My Eyes Off You," which oh so coincidentally had been his first dance song, beat 'N Sync any day.

.

A mere four days after Zouchouten and Karura got back from the Virgin Islands, him even more tanned and her sunburned on her nose and shoulders (even with SPF 85, her pale skin burned and didn't tan), it was time for the second bachelor party of this group of pals – er, pals and employees – er, pals, employees, and significant others. Yes, Koumokuten and Zouchouten were taking Bishamonten out to a bar, and Ashuraou was joining the festivities this time, because Bishamonten had made sure they'd invited him as Taishakuten's partner.

Personally, Kumaraten disliked Ashuraou. He thought the man was A: a complete dunce for loving Taishakuten, B: selfish, the way he moved in with him above his son's screamed expressions of hatred directed at the CEO, and C: two-faced, the way he protected Zenmi from sociopathic hoods and slept with a sociopathic business god.

Kumaraten pasted on a smile and greeted the two-faced selfish dunce, and vowed to sit as far away from him and his man as he could. If he were lucky, the three Senior VPs would sit near them, Bishamonten probably on Taishakuten's left side because Ashuraou would be on his right. Kumaraten would try to sit in the corner, as far away from the main action as he could, and hope he could handle all this interpersonal interaction. At least they had a private room, this would have been awful otherwise.

They took their seats, and score, Kumaraten got to be at the opposite end from Taishakuten and Ashuraou, excellent. No sooner had he thought that than the waitress arrived, and smiled, "I'm Sally, and I'll be your server today. What'll you have?" she asked with her pen poised above her notepad.

Bishamonten began, "Well, I'd like a –"

"Shots of vodka for everybody," Koumokuten interrupted imperiously, "and keep 'em coming. This is Reginald's last chance to be irresponsible, and _this _time the groom doesn't get to back out of it like Aaron did. So vodka all around, and money is no object."

"Oh, not for me, thanks," Ashuraou said seriously. "I'm the driver. But can I have a Shirley Temple instead?" he asked the waitress with a winning smile.

Before Kumaraten could lie and say he was driving too, the waitress had nodded and walked off. Oh _great_, now he was stuck with vodka. He'd never had vodka before, and after witnessing a friend having to run off and rid his stomach of it, he wanted to keep it that way.

The waitress came back pretty quickly, bearing a huge tray with a ton of little glasses. She set one before everybody, and winked, "I'll be back with some more momentarily. So Reginald, whichever one you are, go ahead and have as much as you want before you can't do that anymore!"

As she walked off again Taishakuten slammed his vodka back, smirked, and set it firmly down on the table. "Now, who's next?" he purred, completely unaffected so far. "Which of you are men enough to do what I just did?"

The three Generals grinned, clinked their glasses, and sucked down the shots in macho unison. Kujaku shrugged and imitated them, wishing he had a mimosa instead. Yasha followed Kujaku's lead, coughing a bit once he was done, just as Varuna took one sip and gagged.

Kumaraten himself stared at the shot of vodka set before him. It was concentrated alcohol, yikes, and as he wasn't much of a drinker he'd probably get drunk off just the one. Why did the world assume that made him less of a man? For God's sake, why was it a mark of honor to have imbibed so much booze and killed so many brain cells it no longer affected you?

He wondered if he should spill it. But no, that would get everyone's attention, and then they'd be sure to get him another one and make him drink it while they all watched. So he edged it to the side, over near Varuna. With a little luck, Varuna would get smashed and slam it back because he thought it was his. If not, well, Kumaraten would find a way to avoid imbibing such an awful alcoholic concoction. He had no desire to be hurling up his lunch, and whatever he'd be eating here.

"Karl is so responsible," Taishakuten praised, nodding at his teetotaling significant other. "It comes from being a police hero. I'll bet none of _you _could have fought off that biker gang," he directed at everybody else.

Kumaraten knew _he_ couldn't have, but Koumokuten protested, as carefully as he could, "Well, didn't he grab one of their switchblades and get medieval on their asses? Not to say you're wrong, sir, but I think if I could get hold of one of those, or Aaron or Reginald could, or _you_, sir, things might've turned out pretty well."

"I would have just maced them," Kujaku said breezily.

"I would have just shot them," Varuna declared solemnly.

"I would have just run them over with my Jaguar," Vahyu proclaimed happily.

"I would have just broken their necks and apologized to their next of kin later," Yasha informed everyone bluntly.

Taishakuten, now very annoyed that his lover's manly heroism was being belittled, glared and snapped, "But none of you did. Instead, Karl performed an act that landed him a medal from the mayor. It's all well and good to _say _you'll do something like that, but when it comes down to it, if you don't –"

"Calm down, Arthur," Ashuraou interrupted, a soothing tone to his voice. "Let's not get into an argument at Reginald's party, okay? Have some more vodka, and let it go."

And Taishakuten did, but not without a glare at Yasha, who glared right back at him. But this was proof that Ashuraou was actually good for the CEO, because he could, in some tiny way, make him a bit easier to deal with in little things like like this. Naturally if it was something big he had no effect, but at least for minor squabbles Ashuraou's presence calmed Taishakuten down before things escalated.

Except, of course, at home. Ashura was pulling out all the stops to get rid of Taishakuten: "accidentally" spilling grape juice all over his suits, encouraging his new puppy to chew up Taishakuten's shoes, fiddling with the TiVo so it recorded the Spanish-language Teletubbies instead of Taishakuten's favorite show ("Game of Genocidal Tyrants"), and baiting him until he blew up, bringing Ashuraou stomping in to yell at him for being mean to his son.

So it was a stalemate, really. Ashuraou refused to leave Taishakuten and insisted that Ashura be nice to him, but also refused to let his partner harass his son and insisted that Ashura would grow out of it. News flash – he wouldn't, but Ashura sure wasn't going to tell his dad that.

Another round of drinks came, and Koumokuten swigged down his with a needling, "Looks like only the big boys can handle this already. Edward, Charles, stop giggling. James and Victor, give it up. And Harold, have you drunk any of yours at all? This clearly shows being a Senior VP or higher is a direct indicator of manliness."

"James," Kujaku urged, slapping Yasha on the shoulder, "everybody says you could be a Senior VP yourself! Show us all how you can keep up with them. I promise to match your score!"

Kumaraten wanted to point out that this was dangerous, and that peer pressure was responsible for a lot of accidents, injuries, and even deaths, but Yasha set his jaw and nodded firmly. Clearly, his masculinity had been insulted here, and he had to defend his honor.

"Sir, did you hear that?" Vahyu said gleefully to Koumokuten. "James just challenged you to a drinking match! Here, have another. Reginald, you too! Aaron, don't let James win."

"James, Victor, are you _sure _you want to do this?" Zouchouten asked, with one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "I once drank a whole bottle of vodka and wasn't too drunk. And I've seen Xavier down whiskey like water. And Reginald – Reginald, it _was _you who won that tequila match down in San Antonio, wasn't it?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes it was," Bishamonten said smugly, signaling for another shot of vodka. "I'm good at _everything_."

Kumaraten watched with a kind of resigned horror as five people proceeded to imbibe copious amounts of vodka. Oh man, this wasn't going to end well, he could tell. And indeed, fifteen minutes later Bishamonten's movements were exaggerated, Koumokuten was snapping at everybody, Kujaku kept laughing, Yasha seemed melancholy, and Zouchouten – actually, Zouchouten didn't seem too affected yet, but he _was _the biggest out of everybody here.

"C'mon sir," Vahyu encouraged Koumokuten, who was lifting yet another shot. "Make James look bad! He's always so fricking _perfect_, and predictable too," he said acidly, glaring at Yasha.

"Guess what guys!" Yasha said loudly, hoisting his own vodka up and swaying slightly. "Guess what! I'm gay for Victor!"

Zouchouten dropped his vodka, stunned that Yasha had admitted that. Koumokuten choked on his, his eyes tearing up. Bishamonten gaped, stunned into silence. Vahyu beamed like his week had been made. Varuna pointed and stared. Taishakuten didn't seem surprised in the least. Ashuraou cocked his head, clearly confused. And Kumaraten, who'd figured that one out years ago, rolled his eyes at the many startled people.

Kujaku just hoisted his own glass high and yelled, "And I'm gay for James back! We live together! We once did something in the mailroom! And if you try to fire us for this, Artie, I'll wave Ellen and Aaron in your face and sue, ha!"

"I'm not going to fire you for that," Taishakuten impatiently snapped. "Surely you've realized that I allow many unprofessional activities if performed by the worthy. And you two _are _worthy, so far at least."

"James," Bishamonten asked incredulously, "why didn't you _tell _me?"

Yasha, flush with alcohol and no longer caring that everybody was staring at him, practically bellowed, "Because you hate Charles! And I never told anybody except my family, Kuyou, and Nina. I think a few people figured it out though, mostly thanks to Victor's double entendres and jokes."

Bishamonten thought back, his brow furrowed with effort. When Kujaku had said Yasha had a lover, and Yasha had said her name was Christine? Kujaku had gotten mad. When Bishamonten had offered to drop something off at Yasha's house? Yasha had refused, and Kujaku had pouted. When Kisshouten had said someone her then-husband would never suspect had bought her Kujaku painting "Man with Black Wings," and then said Shirley wasn't a good fit for Yasha? That supposed change of subject made much more sense now.

"Well, I feel pretty stupid now," Bishamonten muttered. "I can't believe I missed all that, for so long too. After all, not all gay men are like Charles the flaming queen over there," he sighed, pointing at Vahyu with an arm that wasn't very steady in the least.

"And this just goes to demonstrate," Vahyu said firmly, standing on his soapbox, "that there are more of us than you'd think, and that stereotypes don't always hold, and that –"

"Shaddup," Koumokuten snapped, clearly an angry drunk. "This isn't political correctness class, and I'm not in the mood for your whining right now. Somebody gimme another vodka to chase the visions of Victor and James in the mailroom away," he demanded, and Varuna obediently passed him Kumaraten's vodka, yay.

And so it went. Finally they did stop the drinking contest, but only because Zouchouten insisted. The hours rolled on, topics of conversation fluctuated, different people talked to other people and then other other people, and Kumaraten began to wonder when he could politely leave. It was now past twelve, well past, and surely Kahra was getting worried that he wasn't calling her to come pick him up. As he thought that, the waitress showed up and waved to get everyone's attention.

"There's a woman here,"she said almost nervously. "She says it's twelve-thirty and it's time for Xavier to come home. Which one of you is Xavier?" she asked, scanning the table.

"I'm Xavier!" Koumokuten proclaimed gaily, waving his hand in the air. "That's my precious fire… fire… my precious fire wife!"

No sooner had he said that than the door swung open, revealing a frowning Aguni. She appraised the drunken antics of the movers and shakers of Tenkai Corporation (plus Ashuraou and Kumaraten), and stuck her hands on her hips with a firm, "I think it's time to cut them off."

As she walked over, Koumokuten snorted, "Oh, says you! We're having fun. You're just jealous, sweetie pumpkin – sweetie jack-o-lantern! Get it, 'cause jack-o-lanterns are pumpkins with fire in 'em! Ha-haa!"

"Xavier," Aguni asked disapprovingly, crossing her arms and arching a brow, "are you drunk?"

"Hell yes," he replied happily, slapping Bishamonten on the back. "I'm completely and totally smashed, fire goddess. This is fan-fucking-tastic, right Reginald?" he encouraged, grinning at his friend.

"It is fan-fucking-tastic," Bishamonten agreed, slapping him on the back in return. "I haven't been this drunk for… uh… thirty years! No wait, I mean twenty years, or close to twenty years, I can't remember. Damn, this is fun. Aaron! Aaron, tell Aguni what you called her the day she made you mad," he laughed.

Aguni turned a laser-intense look onto Zouchouten, who flushed and lied, "I don't remember, I'm sure it was something like 'not-nice overachiever.' " No, it had really been "pyromaniacal, whorish, psycho of a bitch," but if Koumokuten heard that one the chairs would start flying.

"I'm sure," she snapped, then grabbed her husband's arm and ordered, "Xavier, we're going home now. And when you have a killer hangover tomorrow, I will _not _soothe or cater to you in any way. You should know better! You should _all _know better," she directed at the room at large.

Kumaraten heartily agreed with that. These people were business executives, assistants, a police weapons instructor, and a secretary! They weren't frat boys. He got that bachelor parties were all about cutting loose before you buckled down for the rest of your life, but this was asinine. Oh well, at least there hadn't been any topless women, that would have been even worse.

"Ellen's bachelorette party involved sparkling juice and the Backstreet Boys," Aguni continued, leaving out the scandalous topics of conversation and the male strippers. "Everyone there acted like adult women, not giggling little girls! I guess it was too much to ask that all of you act like _men_ and not giggling little boys."

As she said that, Varuna was laughing hysterically at Kujaku's imitation of Aguni behind her back. His chest was thrown out, he was looking down his nose at Yasha, and he was shaking a finger and mouthing, "I'm a bitch! I'm a bitch!" over and over.

"Baby," Koumokuten smirked, "remember yours? Your sister said you were so drunk you got into an argument with a doorframe. Remember that, Aaron?"

"No," Zouchouten said honestly. "Aguni, I agree that you should take him home. In fact, party's over, people, that's enough. Call your rides, everybody, and – Charles! Charles, put your shirt back on right _now!_" he bellowed, making Kumaraten wince at the volume.

"But I'm too sexy to wear it!" Vahyu whined, whirling the thing around like a Chippendales dancer. "I think we should _all _take our shirts off! Who's with me?" he encouraged, as Kumaraten stared in horror at his nipple piercings.

"I am!" Varuna giggled, trying to unbutton his shirt while completely drunk.

"I am!" Yasha yelled, simply ripping his garment open to reveal chiseled, tanned musculature.

"Me too!" Kujaku laughed, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal slightly less chiseled but still very nice musculature.

"Sure, why not?" Bishamonten shrugged, but before he could become the fifth topless man, Zouchouten roared, "NO! This is getting completely out of hand! Xavier, I blame you for this! Everyone put your shirts back on, or I'll… I'll list all of Ellen's good points at the top of my lungs!" he threatened, fully prepared to carry it out.

"Not that!" Kujaku pleaded, immediately depriving anyone who might be interested in fanservice of, well, the Kujaku fanservice. Everyone else followed his lead, and Aguni sighed ever so slightly, rather disappointed.

Koumokuten, having decided that his precious sweetie jack-o-lantern would be happy to put out once they were home, got up and farewelled, "Bye guys. Well Reginald, I think this was a good last hurrah before you marry Bitch Doctor!"

Sudden silence, and Bishamonten's eyes narrowed to deadly little slits as he asked, "Before I marry _who?!_"

Zouchouten and Yasha immediately grabbed his arms as he stood up, and Aguni took that opportunity to hustle her husband out the door. Kumaraten, desperate to avoid more confrontation, tried to think up something he could do to diffuse this situation. He came up with something he rarely engaged in: he'd tell a joke.

"Hey Reginald," he said as casually as he could, "why didn't the chicken cross the road?"

"Huh? Don't you mean, why _did _it cross the road?" Bishamonten asked, perplexed.

Aha, it was working! Kumaraten grinned and replied, "No no, why _didn't _it cross the road. Give up? Okay – because it was too _chicken!_"

To an inebriated man, this was hilarious. The room burst into loud guffaws, and Bishamonten forgot his intention to follow Koumokuten outside and punch him in the face. Kumaraten chortled along, even though the joke was stupid. Oh well, it had been the first one that came to mind, and it had done its job well. That was one nice thing about drunk people, the way they thought everything was funny even when it was really groan-worthy.

"But really," Zouchouten said once they'd all calmed down, "let's all call our rides now. This was fun, but I think most of us will be feeling the effects tomorrow and wishing we hadn't done this. If only there was a surefire way to kill a hangover fast," he sighed, sounding absolutely distraught that there wasn't.

"Well, it's a good thing tomorrow's a Saturday," Taishakuten observed, his gaze slightly unfocused as he stood up. Then he grabbed Ashuraou's wrist, ordering, "Come, Karl. I don't want to have to pay the sitter any more than we have to. Goodnight, everybody."

And with that, the CEO swept from the room, pulling his relieved manslave with him.

And so Yasha and Kujaku called a taxi, Vahyu did the same, Varuna imitated him, Kumaraten called Kahra, Zouchouten called Karura, and Bishamonten tried to call Shashi, got no answer because she'd fallen asleep, and settled for a taxi as well.

When Kahra showed up, Kumaraten ran to her and hissed, "Honey, let's go! I managed to avoid drinking the vodka, but I've had it up to here with social things and I'm getting a headache."

On the way home, he told her all about the bachelor party, and finished with, "I saw a side of men who are otherwise very distinguished that I never want to see again. I mean, James tried to make out with Victor in front of everybody until Reginald stopped him!"

"I can only hope," she sighed in reply, "that Shashi's bachelorette party isn't that bad."

And it wasn't. Aguni had been prevailed upon not to book male strippers, nobody got _too _drunk, and Souma didn't try to make out with Suzanne, who'd been drunk enough to tell her how sexy she was. Apparently Suzanne was at least bi-curious, something Shashi made a mental note to tell Bishamonten. She was willing to be he'd be surprised, but instead he replied, "Oh, we all knew that already. She used to date another girl in high school, it's not a big deal."

.

That Sunday was the big move-in. Bishamonten and Shashi had managed to sell most of the stuff that was superfluous, although since he had a better TV, furniture, and some nice paintings and such, those would have to be moved in. Not to mention that Shashi had had to clean out her garage, seeing as a third car needed to be able to park there.

His house had thankfully sold very fast, a fortuitous occurrence. After all, if it hadn't he would've had to leave all the furniture, TV, paintings, and everything else so potential buyers could see how the mansion would look when it was lived in. But now, with even more money in his bank account, he was in a good place.

Well, except right this minute, Kahra saw as she and Kumaraten pulled up outside Bishamonten's old mansion in the Castle North Gated Community. He was arguing with one of the movers, as Tenou cringed behind him, and Shashi imperiously "helped" another pair of movers carry a fancy table down the sidewalk by admonishing them to "Treat it carefully, it's a family heirloom all the way from England! If you drop it we'll sue you."

Kahra and Kumaraten skirted Bishamonten, Tenou, and the unimpressed mover, and went over to Shashi to ask how best they could be of assistance. They were then told to help with boxes once all the furniture was in the van, and that was just what they did. Finally Bishamonten and the head mover reached an agreement on the best route to 2285 Royalty Drive, and pitched in too.

Things went as well as could be expected for such a stressful situation, one with bossy people and different views on fitting things into the van. But there were no screaming blowups, and Kahra noted that one of the movers, a hunky African-American man, seemed to really like Shashi. In fact, he stretched ever so casually after moving one box, making sure she was right there to see it.

He sent a grin her way, turning so she got his best side. She smiled back, and Kahra then observed an interesting phenomenon… what happens when a man with really red hair gets really, really red in the face. Bishamonten stomped on over, making the mover go a little pale, and snapped, "Stop trying to seduce my fiancée!"

The mover, who had merely been hoping to get a bit of feminine attention, hastily protested, "I wasn't trying to do that! I was just smiling and being friendly! Cross my heart and hope to die, I wasn't trying to seduce her at all."

"Oh Reginald, you're so sexy when you're overprotective!" Shashi tittered, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Kahra herself would have called it "paranoid" instead of "overprotective," but oh well, if her sister found it attractive that was her own problem.

Kahra was a bit ambivalent about this living situation. Despite the two of them getting married less than a week later, and all the nights and sometimes entire weekends together before, this was bad because Shashi and Bishamonten would be officially living in sin! What would her mother Miranda say?

…Well, it would depend on in which point of her life you'd asked Miranda about this. Prior to age twenty-eight, she'd been a partying, promiscuous, permissive person, but after she'd gotten pregnant, she'd turned her life completely around. If she were looking down from Heaven now, she was probably beating her harp against a cloud or something, wailing, "My little Shashi, it wasn't bad enough you had a child out of wedlock and helped the man commit adultery on Christmas Eve, now you have to shack up with him before you tie the knot!"

Kumaraten had bluntly told his wife that she was being silly about this. After all, it made _sense _to live together and not have Bishamonten stay in some hotel until after the honeymoon, which would make moving in even more difficult. It wasn't like they'd be breaking their chastity by cohabiting before the wedding, after all. No, it wasn't something he'd have done himself, but he wasn't about to preach at them.

Finally, hours later, all the furniture and boxes had been moved into 2285 Royalty Drive, and Kahra and Kumaraten could go home. One more step on the road to matrimony, Kahra thought as she closed the door behind her, and soon, it would all be over and she could work hard on her writing again.

.

And finally, after four days of frantic last-minute preparations, it was Thursday, the day of the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Kumaraten braced himself for Bishamonten's bratty ringbearer Timmy, his cousin Shirley's son. He'd heard horror stories, but the bride and groom had no other little boy in their families who could be the ringbearer, so Timmy had won by default.

Fortunately he had been threatened into behaving, by no less than four people. His dad and his mom hadn't made much of an impact because after all, they never handed down consequences when he disobeyed them. But Bishamonten had used the "dangerous mutha" voice, and Shashi had used the "bitchy queen" voice, so Timmy had nervously decided that no, he _wouldn't _make farting noises during the vows.

So that problem had been resolved very neatly. Kahra was still a bit worried about tonight though, as Aguni and Shirley seemed to be barely refraining from attacking each other. Shirley kept saying things like, "Don't tell me I need a parenting class, you have some nerve!" On her side, Aguni kept calling Shirley "an anorexic waif. Have a burger, honey, or you'll faint during the ceremony."

And this had all happened before the rehearsal, oh dear. Kumaraten and Kahra fervently hoped that they'd be nicer during the rehearsal, before Shirley ended up with a black eye or something.

"And here comes Beth," Bishamonten said almost jovially, nodding at a thirty-something woman as curvy as Shirley was skinny, and much more pleasant to be around. "Reverend Francis, we're all here now."

It was amusing, Shashi had tittered to Kahra earlier, that Bishamonten's first marriage had been performed by a cleric whose nickname was "Old One" too. They were different men; Reverend Martin Wheedleton was completely bald and so short he needed a stepstool to reach the pulpit, while Reverend Francis Northington was, while bald on top, blessed with long hair everywhere else, and a very long full beard to boot. Plus he was tall for an oldster.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch, save for Kumaraten's private discomfort at the vows. God, God everywhere. Didn't these people _realize _that they were believing in a myth, one born from other ancient myths? The Great Flood occurred in numerous older Middle Eastern religions; Ausar (Osiris), Mithra, and various other gods had died and come back to life; and the creation myth flew so much in the face of all the scientific evidence of geology, astronomy, biology, physics, and paleoanthropology that he had to wonder how people could be so dumb as to take it literally in this day and age.

Kahra had given up trying to explain how some Christians could take it for a metaphor, since it wasn't worth it. She herself believed in the Resurrection, but she did acknowledge the factual evidence that yes, other religions had gods doing much the same thing. Poor Kumaraten, he got so worked up over this issue.

The rehearsal dinner, despite Timmy's bitchfit over how his food was "yucky," was otherwise very pleasant. Kahra and Kumaraten received a very generous gift for all their help, in addition to the standard Lenox statuette: a trip to Myrtle Beach. Kumaraten briefly thought about how the fundies would be running wild down in South Carolina, but really, a beach!

"You'll have so much fun down there," Aguni said brightly. "It'll be extra good for Harold, because he's as pale as if he's lived underground his entire life!"

"Due to sunblock," Kumaraten replied as pleasantly as he could. "I have no desire for skin cancer, and I'm like Ellen, I burn and don't tan. I actually enjoy spending time in my garden, thank you Aguni."

Aguni just gave him a "Loser" look, turned back to Koumokuten, and fed him a stuffed mushroom. Timmy whined, "Ewwww," Zouchouten rolled his eyes, Tenou sent Timmy an "I agree" glance, Kahra averted her eyes, Kumaraten hastily took a sip of wine, Yasha popped a mushroom into his own mouth, and Shashi beamed and imitated her friend, to Bishamonten's apparent great enjoyment.

.

When it was Friday, May 17th, at three-thirty PM, Kahra and Kumaraten set foot on the threshold of St. Ethelbert's, all dressed up and nearly frantic. Oh no, they were ten minutes late!

Kumaraten made a beeline for the other groomsmen. Kahra made a beeline for the dressing room, knocking and then bursting in to see Shashi getting her hair put up in a fancy braided bun, her nails touched up, and listening to Aguni's last-minute advice.

Aguni was intoning, "Remember to breathe. And if he does something stupid like trying to invite a Satanist he met on the street over for dinner, stay calm, stick to your guns, and make it clear later that he was out of line, but don't let him shift the blame onto you for being mean to his friends. Sex is a great equalizer, and tends to smooth problems over. In fact, you should try to –"

"There you are, Kahra," Shashi grinned, catching her reflection's eye in the mirror. "I've waited my whole life to be a bride, and I finally am!"

"You look beautiful," Kahra told her honestly. "Reginald's going to be downright stunned with happiness."

"He sure will," Beth said as pleasantly as she could, tugging at her neckline and shifting her weight anxiously. "Um, so, how long do you think the reception will go until?"

Oh, poor Beth. She was one of those women who didn't feel comfortable in dresses, and had had to practice walking around in her bridesmaid's gown at home. Kahra was willing to bet that she'd strip out of it the minute she got home tonight, and sell it the minute she could the next day. Some women just felt _wrong _hobbled by a skirt with their underwear easily visible if the skirt ever got hiked or blown upwards, no matter how good they looked in one.

"It'll go as long as we want it to," Shashi said sharply in reply to her tortured future in-law. "But you don't have to stay for all of it, and we'll probably end it around ten-thirty, as we do have an early flight tomorrow."

The minutes ticked by, and finally, _finally_, this wedding began. Kumaraten watched avidly as the flower girl, bridesmaids, ringbearer, maid of honor, and finally Shashi and her uncle Lloyd walked down the aisle. Lloyd seemed tickled pink to be a part of this, and after all, he had no children of his own so this was an opportunity he'd never thought he'd have.

Kumaraten chanced a glance over at Bishamonten and Tenou as Shashi came ever closer. Big surprise, Bishamonten looked absolutely gorgeous, and Tenou looked pretty damn good too, something Kumaraten was willing to bet was being greatly appreciated by Tamara. Bishamonten had a giant grin, and Tenou had a giant grin plus happy tears in his eyes. Uh-oh, this was a bad sign on the Manly Meter.

And it got worse. As Bishamonten and Shashi mounted the altar, Tenou was forced to pull his handkerchief out and dab at his eyes, something Koumokuten seemed rather disgusted by. Kahra had the sudden and violent urge to signal Kumaraten to slap him. Sheesh, the guy's parents were getting married here, and if it wasn't okay for a man to cry happily at this, it was never okay for a man to cry happily.

Reverend Francis smiled paternally and began, "Friends, family, and wedding party, we are gathered here today to celebrate a gift from God: the matrimonial union of Reginald Clarence Bishamonten and Shashi Miranda Prince. Marriage is the cornerstone of our society, and soon Shashi Miranda and Reginald Clarence will add to that foundation of joined souls."

To Kumaraten's ears, the rest of the welcome sounded like this: "Blah blah blah GOD blah blah bad joke blah blah blah GOD GOD more GOD blah blah Reginald and Shashi are wonderful people because they're making it legal."

After that there was a hymn, "Let Thy Heart Be Uplifted Like a Flock of Little Birds," which even Kahra had to admit was cheesy. But apparently this hymn had been sung at the Bishamonten family's weddings since 1872, and though even he thought it was dumb it was a _tradition_. He actually had it memorized, and tuned it out while thinking to himself, _My wedding night is going to be __astounding__._

Once "Let Thy Heart Be Uplifted Like a Flock of Little Birds" had finally ended, Reverend Francis hauled out his Bible and proceeded to read a passage, one of those Psalms that back in the days of Ancient Israel had been racy. Nowadays it was just romantic, and even Kumaraten had to admit that King David had known his stuff. Or, he mentally corrected himself, whoever the hell had written it and had it attributed to David centuries later had known his stuff.

Reverend Francis closed his Bible and beamed, "So true. You see, the love between two people is a holy thing, a God-given joy that…"

Oh great, this speech was full of God too. Kumaraten took this opportunity to tune it out and study the various members of the wedding party.

Shashi was listening seriously, nodding ever so slightly here and there; Bishamonten was also listening seriously, a slight smile on his lips as he looked at Shashi; Tenou had stopped crying but was still grinning, and Kumaraten wondered why his cheeks didn't hurt by now; Kahra was in "worship" mode, a beatific smile on her face.

Koumokuten was looking to the other side of the altar, and three guesses who he was looking at, and the first two didn't count. Zouchouten caught Kumaraten's eye, and exchanged with him a glance of "Can we skip ahead to the vows, please?" Aguni was absentmindedly unraveling a bit of the ribbon of her bouquet, as she looked at Koumokuten in return. Shirley looked bored, Beth still looked uncomfortable, and Suzanne looked pleased. The flower girl Natalie was paying rapt attention and Timmy seemed lost in his own world, and Kumaraten had to hope he wouldn't act out.

The vicar himself was smiling as he went on, "In marriage, we give ourselves to each other, in this sacred union that is the only right way to surrender one's chastity…"

Kumaraten almost laughed aloud when Shashi nodded seriously at that one. Did the man not realize whose wedding he was officiating at? Leaving aside Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, the backseat of the car, and all those other un-chaste times, the bride and groom had been freaking living together. Granted only for a week, but still. Clearly, they hadn't told any of that to Reverend Francis. Not to mention, oh yeah, their _son _was kinda the best man. Either Reverend Francis was just being polite and taking the route of "Well, they've been chaste for eighteen years," or this was the standard wedding homily that he always gave. Or he was so senile he'd forgotten who Tenou was, whichever.

_Finally _it was time for the vows, and Kumaraten perked up. Kahra herself was back to smiling, the entire congregation was paying much more attention now, and yep, there went those Tenou tears again. Still, most kids even in this day and age weren't present when their parents tied the knot, so he could be forgiven, Kahra thought fondly.

Reverend Francis asked Bishamonten, "Reginald Clarence, will you give yourself to Shashi Miranda, to be her husband? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and protect her, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," Bishamonten firmly assured him.

Why, he'd already done most of that! He'd loved her with mad passion for three years in the '90s, thought of her with longing for eighteen years, and loved her with more mad passion pretty much since they'd met again in the Entertaining Suite in February of last year. He'd comforted her when her Aunt Sophia had died, and for numerous other little deprivations. And he'd once beaten a man up when he'd made a lewd suggestion to his girlfriend, so from here on out wouldn't be difficult at all.

Now Reverend Francis turned to Shashi and repeated his query, just with the gender roles switched: "Shashi Miranda, will you give yourself to Reginald Clarence, to be his wife? Will you love him, honor and…"

Et cetera, et cetera, Kumaraten couldn't help but think. But he had little doubt that she would. She loved the guy so much, would probably cradle his head and croon to him if he were ever hurt emotionally or physically, would undoubtedly attack with words or fists were he endangered in any way, and Kumaraten had a very hard time seeing her carrying on an affair with the – the landscaper, or whatever.

"I will," Shashi vowed as Kumaraten was thinking all that. Soft sniffling noises could be heard then from Tenou, and she had to fight the urge to turn to him and say, "Honey, it's okay! Please don't cry any more."

"Family and friends," the vicar smiled, "you are witness to these vows. Will you do everything in your power to uphold Reginald Clarence and Shashi Miranda in their marriage?"

_Like anything I did would stop either of them,_ Kumaraten thought, but added his voice to the chorus of "We will."

Reverend Francis invoked God again as the rings were exchanged, Bishamonten and Shashi imitated him, their hands were joined, Tenou cried some more, Kahra cried too, and finally Reverend Francis said, "Before God and in the presence of us all, Shashi Miranda and Reginald Clarence have joined hands and made their solemn vows, promising life-long faithfulness –"

_I hope so for his sake, _Kumaraten thought, envisioning Shashi chasing her husband with a butcher knife if he pulled on her what he'd pulled on Kisshouten.

"– In the name of God, I declare them to be husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no one separate. God the Father lovingly enfold you…"

_If I have to hear the word "God" as many times again as I have today, I'm going to scream. I will, dammit._

"…Amen. You may now kiss the bride," the vicar smiled, as the congregation broke into applause. And so the newly married couple leaned in and kissed as urged, almost voraciously.

There should be a law, Kumaraten thought disgustedly, that you couldn't use tongue in that first marital smooch. It was obscene, dammit, and judging by the wolf whistles he could hear there would be ribald jokes at the reception, he knew how these things worked. He wondered if Tenou was weirded out by this, hopefully so.

Nope, Tenou probably didn't even notice, because he was crying into his handkerchief again. Kumaraten had never seen a man cry so much – well, except when his own grandfather had buried his daughter and that daughter's husband's lion-torn bodies. It was better to have happy tears than sad tears, although he had to imagine Tenou's friends would tease him about this later.

Not the neighbors and their cousin, though. Hakuryuu, Ryuu, and Seiryuu were happily clapping along, Ryuu saying, "Yeah!" and stopping to pump his fist in the air.

Kujaku too was clapping, grinning after wolf whistling. Karura and Karyoubinga, seated near Kujaku, had not surprisingly refrained from such a thing, but Vahyu had joined in. Varuna, who had been ordered to attend this wedding, clapped without much enthusiasm while near the front, Ashuraou and Taishakuten applauded the union of two people they'd been willing to watch suffer last year. Souma was smiling as she did the same, minus the suffering part, as Hanranya thought to herself, _Well, at least __somebody__ got to marry her true love._

Once the clapping died down and the liplock had been broken, Mr. and Mrs. French Wedding Kiss signed the registrar with giant smiles on their faces. After which they were presented to the congregation as "Mr. and Mrs. Reginald Clarence Bishamonten and Shashi Miranda Prince," which was getting more and more common, married people with two different last names. Shashi had kept hers because hey, everybody knew her as "Dr. Prince," so it made sense to stay with that.

Tenou, who had just yesterday had his name legally changed to "Prince-Bishamonten," managed to dry his tears during the closing prayers and hymn ("Love Is Thy Shelter," a piece that wasn't nearly as cheesy as "Let Thy Heart Be Uplifted Like a Flock of Little Birds"). Finally, they were a real family! One with a legally married father, mother, and then their son, so take _that_, disapproving older relatives.

He would happily share with everyone he knew what had happened today. In fact, his friends at school would get so sick of hearing about, "My dad, you know, the one who married my mom? Yeah, my dad called me today while they're in Tahiti for their honeymoon and said they're thinking of me, and that someday we'll all go back there as a _family_."

By the time he offered his arm to his aunt for the recessional, Tenou was composed. Well, he was still smiling to beat the band, but that matched pretty much everybody in the wedding party. Granted Koumokuten was only smiling so hard because he got to walk down the aisle with Aguni, but hey, it'd work.

_Fire muffin, _he thought as they sailed past row upon row of guests, _Love Motel has almost completely succeeded! Thanks so much for your help with getting Shashi all hot and bothered at that party. And y'know what? Despite how much of a bitch Shashi is, she makes Reginald happy and it's nice to see Reginald happy. Not that it won't be nicer when I take his job, but hey, he'll have the consolation of his wife!_

Boy, the congratulations took _forever_, Kumaraten thought almost grumpily. He recalled his own wedding, and how repetitive they were. "Congratulations! You're married now! Mr. and Mrs. Kumaraten, how sweet. When can we expect children? What a lovely ceremony!" Those had been the basic options, mixed together in multiple ways, occasionally with a bad joke or unwanted physical contact.

He noted that Bishamonten seemed a bit uncomfortable with the physical contact too. Hmm, a kindred sense of personal space. Kumaraten often wished the U.S. were like Japan, where you didn't even shake hands, let alone slap each other on the back or hug each other. Worst were the kisses on the cheek, those almost made him panic if it wasn't Kahra doing it.

He often felt like snapping, "I did not give you permission to touch me. Touch from people other than my wife and sometimes family is uncomfortable. Not everyone is okay with such intimate contact from a near-stranger, and I have the right to ask you to stop without you getting mad at me. After all, you were the one who pushed it on me without my go-ahead."

Then came the photographs on the grounds, cherry trees blooming everywhere and a couple butterflies fluttering around. One of them landed on Shashi's bouquet, and the photographer made sure to snap that shot before it flew away. That particular photograph would be the one the bride and groom framed, and probably could have been used in a wedding magazine, it was so good.

And because this was a Friday, there was no break in the action like there had been for Zouchouten and Karura's wedding. Nope, everybody headed straight to the Yama Inn for the reception, which was one of those super-fancy older hotels with gorgeous grounds and architecture that would never be affordable in this day and age.

They'd booked the whole dang thing (it was where many out-of-town guests were staying), and the reception was outside. Thankfully the day was nice and warm, and since it was May the bugs weren't out in full force. Having flies settle onto your gourmet salmon would've been such a drag, same for the hornets stinging you while you tried to dance.

It was a lovely reception, and many guests were impressed with how part of the color scheme matched Bishamonten's hair, or near enough. Yup, the theme for this reception was fuchsia red and gold, and the decorations were very pretty. Kahra felt personally accomplished whenever she overheard somebody say, "My, aren't these flowers/table settings/decorations nice?" After all, she'd been the one to arrange for them, and if she never saw another color swatch again, it would be too soon.

Finally, it was time for the best man's toast. Tenou looked out at the plethora of people, thanked his lucky stars that he'd briefly been in Debate Club, and began his spiel.

"Thanks for coming, everybody. And thanks to the caterers, wasn't that delicious?" Pause for assent, then, "Today is the happiest day of my family's life, and we're so grateful that all of you could be here. Finally, my mother Shashi and my father Reginald have wed, after so long apart.

"The first time my dad saw my mom… he wanted to beat her with a car fender," Tenou grinned, to laughter from the audience. "She hit his car while parallel parking at thirty miles per hour! But they say everything happens for a reason, and she ended up giving him a ride to work, where they hit off. From there…"

As Tenou rehashed the ballad of Bishashi, Kumaraten sent a fond smile Kahra's way. _Their _first meeting had been much different, and certainly much more romantic. He'd been guilted into attending a mass with his mother, while he was profoundly questioning the faith, and there seen a sexy nun. Well, okay, he hadn't been able to really tell that she was sexy right then due to her unflattering clothes, but he hadn't been able to miss her smiling, gorgeous face and sweet manner.

As Kahra had helped an elderly sister into the pew, Kumaraten's mother Eunice had burbled, "It's so nice to see the sisters of Saint Aelfrieda the Rabidly Devout, isn't it Harold dear? What a shame that young woman is the only one under forty. It's a sad state of affairs when girls would rather run around dressed like prostitutes and pretending to be Cyndi Lauper than go into a life of serving God."

Kumaraten hadn't even thought something like, _Well, maybe if the Church wasn't so conservative they'd get more postulates, _like he would have usually. Nope, he'd just decided that he'd be coming back here. He had casually asked, "Do they come to the daily masses?"

"Oh yes dear, every single time. But you know me, I faithfully attend Sundays and that's good enough," his mother had smiled.

Thus the irony of Kumaraten, then an engineering grad student, attending Mass daily. On Sundays he'd sometimes miss Kahra, as she'd attended at different times, but during the weekdays he'd gotten to sit really close, score! Because he'd been smitten, terribly so, and when they'd smiled at each other he'd known that this was the woman for him.

When she'd agreed to go out to dinner with him while almost everybody else was off in Washington D.C., preaching God's love and saying gay rights were evil without a trace of irony, they'd both had a blast. He'd been gallant, suave, witty, and sweet, and in return she'd come out of her shell almost completely, something that usually didn't happen with anybody but her family.

Noting his lack of a prayer before a meal, she'd hesitantly asked him why he hadn't joined in hers. From there, instead of the row the date could have ended in, they'd had a thoughtful and mutually respectful conversation on God, science, and how washing your hands was more important than praying, have some more hand sanitizer Kahra. It was really true, civility is everything.

And that, as they say, had been that. Goodbye convent, hello fiancé! Kahra had gone back to school for creative writing, and she'd never regretted it in the least. Yes she wished her husband were a believer, but surely he wasn't headed to Hell just for that. He was, after all, a good man.

"…Which is why I can say, with absolute conviction, that I believe everyone has that one person they're _meant _to be with," Tenou was concluding, raising his (sparkling juice) glass high. "To my mother and my father, congratulations!"

And so there was much clinking of glasses and quaffing of beverages, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Tamara, who had managed to switch her sparkling juice for some champagne, congratulated herself that she was tasting alcohol with no one the wiser. Ha, this meant she was ever so clever and rebellious, and so _mature _too, disobeying laws put in place for people's own protection.

Kahra and Kumaraten sat through the other toasts, the cutting of the cake, the feeding of the cake, and the eating of the cake. She was amused by the little figures on top of it; Shashi and Bishamonten had managed to commission little mini representations of themselves, down to the boutonniere and dress. They'd end up saving them and putting them in a glass cupboard, bragging to anyone who asked, "Oh yes, those are our wedding-cake doppelgangers, aren't they adorable?"

Once it was time for that obligatory first dance, Kumaraten and his wife, alongside a lot of other people, were not surprised in the least to hear "Lady in Red." That was Bishamonten and Shashi's "our song" – well, one of them anyway. She looked great in red, and he'd made sure to buy her a red dress, one that wasn't quite _scandalous_ due to Tenou's presence, but was certainly _sexy_.

Oh, they were a good-looking couple. What was it about the universe that often gave arrogant people gorgeous bods and pretty faces? Well, now that Kumaraten thought about it, maybe it went the other way around. Be that as it may, they were attractive and they knew it, and at least they'd never attacked the engineer or his wife.

And now, with the conclusion of "Lady in Red" with a back-bending smooch and much applause, the dance floor was opened to the rest of this party. The deejay struck up a lively tune, and Timmy ran around annoying people on a sugar high until his dad stopped him. Tamara tried to snare Tenou for a dance, but he'd attached himself to Souma as a defense mechanism, too bad.

Kahra and Kumaraten found themselves dancing next to the happy couple, and without missing a beat, Bishamonten smiled, "Harold and Kahra, thank you again for all your help. We couldn't have done it without you."

Whoa, validation. Kahra beamed back, even Kumaraten smiled in reply, and as the two couples drifted away from each other on the floor, Kumaraten decided that Bishamonten was kind of cool after all.

"You know Kahra," he admitted in a whisper into her ear, "I've come to actually like Reginald. He's not so intimidating once you get to know him and he respects you, and he does seem to mellow Shashi a bit. And I can't tell you how glad I am that _Taishakuten _isn't my new brother-in-law. Nope, Reginald will do just fine, I think."

"I think so too," she fervently replied. "I mean, just imagine if we were related to that awful man by marriage."

They both imagined this: Taishakuten would belittle his in-laws at every chance he got; warn Kumaraten that their familial relationship did not improve him in the CEO's eyes; egg Shashi on to nastier and nastier comments; refuse to pay them back any help they'd given; flaunt his marriage in poor Bishamonten's face; and, of course, secretly fantasize about his best friend and probably end up having an affair with him.

So things were good, all's well that ended well, happy endings all around, and Kumaraten was about to say, "To use a religious phrase, hallelujah," when Kahra changed the subject.

"Harold," she told him with a smile, "this entire experience has given me a wonderful idea for a short story, perhaps even a full-length novel. There's a lot of humorous, dramatic, and heartwarming potential in planning someone else's wedding, and it's best to write what you know, after all."

"And boy, do you know about that. You should make it so someone loses it at the reception, having had it up to here with all the little details. Or the bride breaks down with happy tears before her walk, and everybody thinks she's run away from the groom while she gets herself under control," he helpfully suggested.

"I can call it, oh… Wading Through the Wedding, or something," Kahra said proudly. "It'll hopefully sell well to the 'harried sister' market, or any best friends who've gone through that too. I'm glad I did it, but I'm even more glad this is over."

"And now we can go back to our lives, having gained a brother-in-law who'll probably make sure to give us generous Christmas gifts," Kumaraten thought aloud. "I can focus on my work without being worried about the wedding, and you can focus on your writing without being distracted from it after half an hour."

"Yes, indeed."

They danced in happy silence for a while, and then, a new song was put on. It started out with piano, a nearly haunting melody, and then an alto began to sing, "I heard that you're settled down, that you – Found a girl, and you're married now…"

Kumaraten and Kahra exchanged exceptionally puzzled glances. Why was Adele's "Someone Like You" on the playlist for a wedding? And why were the bride and groom grinning at it, dancing even closer and looking downright gleeful?

Oh well, Kumaraten decided, he didn't need to know. Must've been one of those insider things.

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(AN: Drunken male fanservice, strippers, a g-string, and scandalous topics of conversation… oh dear. Sorry to those of you who were offended, you're welcome to those of you who snickered gleefully at such things. I'm sure you all breathed a sigh of relief that Koumokuten wasn't one of the shirtless men, huh?

I should point out that I haven't been to a wedding since I was twelve years old [none of my friends have gotten married], so I had to research what they entailed. If there are any mistakes, my bad. But ooh, so many pretty dresses to look at while researching! I want to draw Karura and Shashi in such outfits, actually.

So just to clarify, the Old One in "Adele" who married Bishamonten and Kisshouten was Kumaraten's Old One, the Old One here is Yasha's Old One. Hey, he's from a northern tribe, and I needed a distinguished elderly dude to play the vicar. If only Karura's tribe had had an Old One [maybe a woman for some variety], I would have used that one for her wedding too.

In the next installment, we will see the fabulous and gorgeous Kisshouten! So what's she been up to while her ex-husband's having car sex and getting smashed? How's Puffball, the adorable Abyssinian guinea pig? What will Tentei do when he realizes who two sets of neighbors are? And will Blondie be proven better than Brahms? You'll find out in a little while.)


	8. New Horizons

_Tentei's out for revenge on the bastard who hurt his little girl. Kisshouten's dealing with a sick guinea pig, and a sudden appreciation for rock music and hunky neighbors._

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(AN: Warnings for this one: people with suspicious dirty minds, crack pairings with an older woman and younger men, Tentei engaging in not-nice activities, personal injury, fanservice, and adult language. The crack pairings are done for humorous effect, obviously, but were fun to write. Oh, and I made a mom for Kisshouten.

One more warning: I bash on abstract art, sorry. I may not know too much about high art, but I know what I like, and I like realistic and beautiful things with backgrounds and foregrounds, pretty clothing, perspective, and motion, not a canvas full of very "deep" [and stupidly expensive] paint splatters. And don't get me started on the snotty attitudes of the people who produce such things, or we'll be here all day.

So I know Tentei as a main character makes little sense, since we hardly see him in the manga and he had very little time in "Adele" as well. But I had to have somebody share the spotlight with Kisshouten who hasn't been a protagonist yet, and I did write some hopefully funny parts with him. And yes, I'm aware that "Tentei" is some sort of title, but since CLAMP never gave him a name that's what I've used. Oh, and "Okami" means "king of the gods" or something like that.)

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(February 2nd, 2014)

Kisshouten Okami, for ten years Kisshouten Bishamonten, was doing all right for herself.

She had won even more art awards, having poured her heartbreak and anger over her divorce into her work. She had found herself a nice apartment, and had now found the perfect house. She had moved beyond her divorce, and grown as a person. She had a surrogate child figure in her guinea pig Puffball, who was so bonded to her he thought she was his only reason to exist – well, besides food, that was.

She was a strong woman. Not a strong woman in the "I'll punch out anyone in my way!" sense, but the "I'm true to myself and refuse to compromise on important things" sense. Not a warrior, just somebody with convictions who wouldn't let herself get pushed around. And staying married to somebody who'd been feeding her major lies would have been being pushed around.

Kisshouten had been stung but not at all surprised when it came out that Bishamonten was planning on marrying Shashi once the divorce was final. It had hurt an awful lot, but mostly it had made her more convinced than ever that she'd made the right choice. Being married to a man who loved someone else was something she refused to put herself through, and it had bolstered her conclusion that she needed to move on. Clearly he had, and if she'd tried to stay with him she would have been dealing with an affair, she was one hundred percent sure of that one.

Still, every so often, those melancholy feelings popped up. Feelings of, "He loves her more than he loved me, even though I loved him so much and never lied to him. Twelve years is a long time to be with someone, and I'd thought we'd die happily married."

Today, as she came back from closing on her new house on 2283 Royalty Drive, in the Rolling Rago Hills wealthy community, she felt a bit melancholy. Living in a big house with just her and Puffball… that might be hard. The obvious question here was, "Why buy it if it's too big?" but she loved that house already. She'd always been someone who liked space, and this way, she could have a studio in the basement, and a hot tub, couldn't forget that.

But the downer continued, and she decided to just call her parents to talk this out. Tentei and Megan Okami were loving, understanding, and downright great parents, even though at times her dad was a little overprotective. Maybe that came from growing up in Japan, where the family superseded the individual. Whatever it was, she still wanted to talk to them.

So she dialed their number and got Tentei, who greeted her with, "Hello sweetheart. Did you close on that house yet?"

"I did," she told him with a slight smile. "It's a lovely neighborhood, nice and quiet. I talked to the neighbors on the right, Mr. and Ms. Owusu. They seem nice, and they said the people there are good, no major antagonisms that they can see. But Father, you know, I just feel… I just feel a little sad, you know, like this is the final epilogue to my marriage to Reginald, buying a house just for myself."

Over in his study, Tentei sighed, "Aw, honey. I'm sorry to hear that. But you know it wasn't your fault, at all. It was all his, remember."

She did remember that, and rolled her eyes that her dad thought she blamed herself when she'd made it clear she didn't. Oh well, he still thought she was little, which was annoying but pretty darn near impossible to change. He was set in his ways, and it wasn't worth the effort to try to sway him on something like this.

So she let it go, and simply talked about her excitement to have the new house, the lingering regrets, the knowledge that she had done what was right, and the admission that she wondered if her ex-husband was happy. She missed him, no longer so much in a romantic way, but in a friend way. They'd gotten along well, despite his own overprotective tendencies, and she hoped he was doing all right.

She didn't tell Tentei that last part, though. As it was, he snorted, "Well, I don't see why you care what happens to him anymore. After all, the man–"

"Yes, we all know what he did," Kisshouten interrupted, sick of the inevitable rant. "Father, I have to go now. I love you, okay? Goodbye."

"I love you too. Stay strong, honey," he soothed, then hung up with a fond, "Bye Princess."

He looked around, and as Megan was nowhere in evidence, he reached into his desk drawer, grinning evilly, and brought out the Bishamonten voodoo doll he'd finished just yesterday. He'd discovered a long strand of red hair while vacuuming under the couch a couple weeks ago, and had been unable to pass this opportunity up. With the help of a book from the library, he'd constructed the little effigy whenever Megan was at her book club or otherwise occupied.

Tentei felt personally injured by Bishamonten's desire to break up with Kisshouten, and marry some doctor who'd been engaged to his boss. He'd _liked _Bishamonten; they'd had heartfelt talks and played badminton, gone to baseball games and agreed that Kisshouten was divine. He'd loved the younger man, and never in his life thought he'd be angry at him like this. But now… things were different.

_He's goin' down._

Tentei was pleased with the doll. He'd managed to draw miniature eyelashes on it, gotten the red string to emulate Bishamonten's unusual hairstyle, and even made a tiny tie, knotted tightly around the bastard's little neck. Yes, anyone looking at this doll could tell that it was supposed to be Reginald Clarence Bishamonten, Senior VP of Expansion in Tenkai Corporation, cheating motherfucker and sire of a bastard. …Well, okay, Tenou was no longer a bastard since the marriage of his parents, but still.

Tentei reached back into the desk for the hatpins. Practical Voodoo for the Modern Age had informed him that burning the thing wasn't optimal, but pins worked very well. Well, he'd go with whichever worked better!

He was a modern man, a research scientist no less, and he didn't _really _think voodoo would prove real. But there was that tiny chance that, if he believed hard enough and got Bishamonten to believe it too, it just might cause the cheating scum pain. And that would in some way make up for the pain he'd caused Kisshouten, not to mention this was cathartic.

So… head? Arm? Leg? Ooh, _groin! _Tentei skewered the doll, his teeth bared in a smile that didn't look friendly at all. No more Mr. Nice Guy, uh-uh.

"Take that," he hissed, fervently believing and hoping this would work.

"Honey? Honey, do you want Caesar or garden salad for dinner?" Megan's voice came from the hallway, getting closer. He quickly hid mini-Bishamonten in the drawer and smiled, "Garden salad's fine, dear."

A slender woman in her mid-sixties with wavy, brown-streaked grey hair down to her shoulders entered the room, a serene expression on her face, and told him, "I was hoping you'd say that. Caesar takes more work. Tentei honey, was that Kisshouten on the phone just now?"

"Yes, dear. She closed on the house," he said proudly. "Our little girl will finally have a home worthy of her without having to share it with a cheating–"

"Let it go," Megan ordered a bit sharply. "And she's not 'our little girl' anymore, and hasn't been for decades. She's a middle-aged woman now, so for heaven's sake, please stop acting like she's five."

Tentei muttered something that sounded an awful lot like, "We're still her parents," but otherwise said nothing else in opposition to his wife. Silly Megan, she didn't realize that a man needed to always protect his children no matter how old they might be. Ever since they'd welcomed Kisshouten into their lives, she had been the most precious being in the world to them, barring each other of course.

Ah, Megan. Tentei loved Megan, and had ever since he'd come over from Tokyo as an exchange student in 1968, to find a beautiful hippie occupying his political science building (with a bunch of other ones). In fact, she was the reason he'd stayed in the US, gotten his citizenship, and basically ended up with all he had now. She'd taught him all about this country that had seemed so strange, where they made physical contact all the time with people they didn't know, refused to use chopsticks whenever possible, and viewed Christmas as a religious holiday – well, some of them, anyway.

By now, he would have found modern Japan odd, that was how used to the USA he was. He shook hands, he was now better with a knife and fork than chopsticks, and he had come to be quite fond of classic Christmas carols, the ones that were spiritual. At the same time, he was proud of his heritage of being descended from samurai, still wore his hair in a topknot, and spoke Japanese to his family over there as if he'd never left. He was still Shinto actually, but kind of liked Jesus' style.

Megan had once confessed to him that she thought he looked very sexy in kimono, so he'd kept a number of those around. Nowadays the sexiness had mostly faded, but they were still in love and did occasionally do what married couples did. These days, their focus was on their jobs (research scientist for Tentei, teacher for Megan), their butterfly koi (who lived in a fancy pond during the spring, summer, and fall, and in a mammoth tank during the winter), and Kisshouten (who Megan thought was doing well and Tentei thought was just putting on a brave face).

It was his duty to protect her! It was a solemn familial vow, one his samurai forebears would have approved of. They would have said, "Tentei-kun, you must destroy the dog who has dishonored your daughter!" Unfortunately Megan didn't see it that way, and had held him back from going over to Bishamonten's house and using his ancestral nihontou on the night that Kisshouten had left the jerk.

Well, one day, his wife would see that he had saved their child, in a non-confrontational but no less heroic way than fighting off a – a murdering kidnapper, or something. Yes, Tentei would punish Bishamonten through voodoo, and then he'd tell his wife and his daughter just what he'd done. They'd thank him, he was certain of that.

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That weekend, Kisshouten attended a gallery show at the major gallery that displayed her work. This was the biggest show of the year for Grafton and Marcy Fine Art Dealers, so it was near-mandatory that she attend.

When she got there, dressed in a flattering long white dress and matching shawl, she was greeted by Monique Grafton, a majestic black woman in her late fifties who could sell art like nobody's business. She knew what clients liked, and she made sure to get it, for a variety of tastes. That variety was on perfect display tonight, with sculptures, oil paintings, watercolors, and a host of other media, abstract and realistic and everywhere in between.

Kisshouten was pleased that her work had gotten a front-and-center placement. "Star Festival", "Doomed Dancer", and "Princess' Castle" were there in all their realistic glory, next to – oh my, whoever was on the right had a very different outlook on art than she did. It was modern, each and every piece, ranging from a canvas made up entirely of tiny, multicolored dots to a mandala that made her nervous, and… why, that one was disgusting!

It was a cubist-inspired piece, with organs and animal bones arranged almost randomly, and splashes of crimson everywhere on a white background. Granted painting organs and bones in such a style was hard, but still. Kisshouten understood that art was in the eye of the beholder, and that pushing the sensibilities of the viewer was a worthy goal, but still, this was disturbing and sad. What kind of mind could produce such a thing?

"Ah, here she is!" Monique said from behind her. She turned to see Monique steering someone else over, with a big smile on her face.

"This is Percival Rudra," the dealer said brightly, indicating the slender man with a long, thin ponytail and otherwise spiky hair, a tattoo of a squiggly line on his face, and one ear full of earrings and the other unpierced. He was wearing a black turtleneck, black slacks, black wingtips, and a haughty expression.

"Percival recently sold a painting for fifty thousand to a collector from France," Monique went on, patting his arm. "He's ever so bold in his use of minimalism and surrealism."

"The money isn't importantto me," Rudra said, with a slight British accent that Kisshouten just _knew _had been carefully studied and cultivated. "I make art for art's sake, and the world loves me for it."

Why, who cared that he lived fast and had bought his dog a diamond collar? Money was for the Philistines of the world to squabble over. And of course, only someone stupidly rich could think like that. It was a fact of life: only those who had the means to have whatever they wanted thought money wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

"And Percival, this is Kisshouten Okami, our highest-selling artist. Her work has been added to collections and museums all over the world, and we've often been told that people think they're looking at a photomanipulation when they catch sight of her pieces," Monique praised, making Kisshouten smile. "I don't know how she does it! Now, why don't you two chat, I see someone really studying Georg's gazelle painting."

And with that she sailed off, leaving Kisshouten smiling at Rudra and Rudra casting an askance, affected bored glance at Kisshouten. He then asked, "So which are yours?"

"These," she told him, and pointed each one out. "That's 'Star Festival'–" she indicated the painting of a night sky with the stars forming people in fantastic costumes, "–and this one's 'Doomed Dancer'–" she pointed to the one of a woman in Indian-style clothing dancing while a circle of spears surrounded her, "–and 'Princess' Castle', which is my favorite. I'd sure like to live there," she joked, trying to make this guy crack a smile.

But no…

"Oh, you're one of those _establishment _artists," he sneered, like making art where the observer could tell what it was was a bad thing. "I'll bet you also do still lifes, bourgeois nature scenes, and cliché little portraits, don't you?" he asked condescendingly, arching a brow.

Kisshouten's eyes narrowed as she replied, "No, I paint the human and animal form in motion, dynamic landscapes with storms and waterfalls, and full-body portraits."

Rudra was still unimpressed as he sighed, "Perhaps I should show you _my _work." He swept an arm out to encompass the dot thing, the cubist thing, and the seething mandala, which was pretty interesting but gave her a headache. Okay, so now she saw what kind of mind could produce such things.

"'Shatter' represents the fragmentation of modern life, and each spot of paint is a slightly different color to symbolize individual, isolated souls," he informed her. "'Snow Bunny' is a deconstructed rabbit in a winter meadow."

Kisshouten looked, and yes indeed, there were rabbit ears amongst all the impossible shapes and organs. And what might be little lagomorph teeth, sunk into what might be a hind leg. Still, had the man slaughtered a rabbit for inspiration, or did he just have a veterinarian friend who'd lent him organs as references? Whichever, it was still disturbing, and while it _was_ thought-provoking, her thoughts were, _Yuck. And that's sad._

"And then there's my favorite, which won me 'Artist of the Year' in Cincinnati," he said, in the studiously bored tones of a man who didn't think it _mattered _that he'd been given such an accolade, because _real _artists didn't need outside confirmation of their talents. He patted the mandala fondly and continued, "This is 'Bastard Boss From the Infernal Realms', which came to me in a dream."

_Probably after you imbibed copious amounts of drugs, _she thought, staring at what looked like a pair of stud earrings replicated in a circle.

"You see," he continued, "the subject of this painting was a terrible man, so terrible conventional art couldn't capture his evil. But the mandala is an ancient Eastern art form, and I've given it a contemporary twist. Note the pinpointed eyes in Tier Seven."

Kisshouten wondered why in the world Starbucks cups were in Tier Thirteen, but maybe Rudra had been imbibing coffee along with all the hallucinogens. How else could this be explained?

"It's… very elaborate," she managed.

It was. "Bastard Boss From the Infernal Realms" was huge, practically big enough to cover half her living room wall. It was very well executed, because Rudra had used shading and perspective on this one. And the mandala seemed to move, pulsing with some sort of malevolent energy. Frightening.

"It _is _elaborate," its creator agreed smugly. "Its price is sixty thousand, and I'm settling with that. But I'll be glad in a way to get it off my hands, thus exorcising all ties with the demon in human form it was based off of. You know how it is, some things haunt you until you rid yourself of them through your work. With my insane former boss utterly out of my life, I will have completed my journey from office slave to darling of the modern art world."

Kisshouten smiled, nodded, and took the first opportunity of escape she found. Rudra was unbalanced, what with "Snow Bunny" and the conviction that his former boss was a "demon in human form". Even Arthur Taishakuten wasn't one of those, so clearly, he was exaggerating.

.

Now it was May 20th, and Kisshouten had just moved into her new home. She had also had a major surprise: two houses down on the left was the family of Reginald Bishamonten, Shashi Prince, and Tenou Prince-Bishamonten, plus their guinea pig Tenma. Talk about your shock: you could have knocked her over with a feather when her ex-husband had come over to greet her.

She'd been chatting with and showing Puffball to those nice Waters brothers, Hakuryuu and Seiryuu. They were polite, friendly, smiled at her face and not her chest, and she liked them already. They'd informed her that they were a dermatologist and a computer programmer (respectively), loved rock music, and had three cats they both doted on. She had informed them in return that she was a painter, loved Classical music, and had a guinea pig she loved like a child, and she'd expected condescending smiles at the last two, but no.

"Classical music is great, and the foundation for everything else," Seiryuu had agreed.

"And guinea pigs are wonderful too," Hakuryuu had added. "My aunt Frieda used to have a pair."

"Aren't guinea pigs like the closest thing to rabbits?" their cousin Nathan Ryuu had asked curiously. "I remember reading somewhere that – Wyvern! Stop climbing my leg!" he'd directed at his biggest iguana, one of the two he had on a leash and had walked/dragged over here.

Soon she had been invited over "anytime" for some refreshments, and been eyed rather covetously on the adults' parts, not that she noticed that yet. Ryuu had, and mentally groaned that oh no, now there would be the competition of a lifetime: "Pick Me, Sexy Mature Neighbor!" And until she did, surely there would be harsh words exchanged and hair-pulling, at the least.

Blithely unaware of all that, Kisshouten had been explaining the anatomy of guinea pigs when the moving truck pulled up, and that had been that. Hakuryuu and Seiryuu had immediately volunteered their services as well as that of their cousin, but nope, these movers didn't want anyone getting in their way. So the Ryuu clan waved goodbye and went back to their yard, shirtless (the older cousins) and open-shirted (the younger cousin).

Now that the dust had settled and she'd finally gone to bed, Kisshouten had ample time to think. It was true what she'd said to Bishamonten: it was good to see him, and while she no longer hated him, she no longer loved him either. It had been easier than she'd thought to come to terms with the fact that she'd be seeing a lot of him, and that was good. Shashi might possibly be a different story, as she was more prickly to begin with and might be somewhat defensive, but at least Kisshouten knew Tenou would be easy to get along with.

.

A week later, she looked in on Puffball to see him sitting listlessly in the corner of his cage, his eyes half-shut and his food untouched. Having paid attention to the books that said when your pet wasn't eating, something was very wrong, she immediately brought over some carrots to try to tempt him. Maybe he was just a little under the weather, and–

Nope. He looked at those carrots with eyes that she suddenly noticed were crusty, and otherwise ignored them. Uh-oh.

She now thought back over the past week with increasing guilt. He'd been less active, but she'd thought he was just still adjusting to this new environment. His eyes had been running a bit yesterday, but she'd thought they were just irritated by all the dust kicked up by moving in. And now that she revisited it, he'd been eating less and less, and sneezing a bit. Clearly, she had missed some important warning signs, which made her feel almost indescribably irresponsible.

Well, there was no time to waste! She picked up her phone and dialed her vet, making an appointment for eleven o'clock. She would _not _be going into the studio until she'd seen Dr. Martinez, uh-uh. Until then, though, she decided to do some sketching in the living room, to keep an eye on her poor little piggy.

She was tempted to hold and snuggle him, but no, that wasn't a good idea. Who liked being snuggled when they were sick and just wanted to rest? Nope, she would watch him closely and if he worsened in any way, they were off to the animal urgent care.

All he did was stay in his igloo, and poke his head out to drink some water. Well, at least he was drinking, she thought as she picked him up to put in his carrier, and hooked the water bottle onto the door too. Poor guy, he must have been feeling absolutely dreadful, and she broke the speed limit more than usual as she drove to the vet.

Once there, Dr. Martinez made a quick diagnoses: "Upper respiratory infection, a pretty bad one. They're prone to those, you know. But he's not dehydrated, that's good. We're going to keep him overnight and start him on an antibiotic immediately, there's no time to waste," he said solemnly, as was appropriate for this life-or-death matter. Guineas could die from such infections, and Kisshouten knew that.

She nodded, feeling tears build in her eyes. Puffball sneezed, wondering why the hell Mommy had taken him from his nice safe cage to this terrible place, where he'd been violated by the thermometer and handled by this fat guy he'd never met before. Didn't she love him anymore?

If only he understood. As it was, his distress grew when a nurse picked him up and stuck a syringe behind his front teeth and in the space in front of his back teeth, then squirted a bunch of disgusting stuff down his throat, argh! What had he done to deserve this torture?!

He chattered his teeth angrily, huddling into a little hunched-up, fluffed-up ball of spiky black fur, and beseechingly looked at Kisshouten. Could they go home now, please? He already felt sick, and surely these unfamiliar humans were going to just hurt him some more the longer they stayed.

Kisshouten petted him and crooned, "Puffball sweetheart, Mommy has to leave you here, but she loves you! This will make you better, and I promise you'll be okay. He will be, won't he?" she desperately asked Dr. Martinez.

"I'm guessing yes," he assured her soothingly. "If you'd waited to bring him in he might not be, but he's got his meds and he isn't the worst case of an infection like that I've seen, not by a long shot. We'll call you tomorrow and tell you how he's doing, and hopefully, you'll be able to take him home in a few days, with the meds of course."

Kisshouten gave Puffball one more pet, told him goodbye again, and _left _him! With these scary people! Noooo!

He was incredibly upset as they put him in a cage in the back. He could smell other animals, dogs and cats and fellow rodents, and something he'd never smelled before, which happened to be a ferret. He was lucky he didn't know what such a hunter was, or he'd have been even more upset. As it was, this was not his comfy cage with good litter and his igloo! This had newspaper on the floor and a log to hide in, and the whole thing smelled like medicine and disinfectant.

He made it through the night, was picked up halfway through to get more meds, and got fitful sleep with bad dreams (yes, guinea pigs dreamed like all mammals), but by the time they gave him some fresh food, he realized that he was hungry. Hmm, this was a change from before, and while this wasn't his nice, _gourmet_ food, it was still guinea pig food so he'd take it.

But Mommy had abandoned him, he despaired without words. This was just like his prior owner Bridget, who'd left one day without saying goodbye, and three hours later her parents had handed him off to that pet store for adoption. Thankfully Red-haired Man Who Used To Be Daddy (Bishamonten) had rescued him and taken him home to Mommy, but Mommy had left _him_ and now she'd left Puffball too.

His day was full of depressing feelings, more meds, more violation, and a really yappy dog that he was both terrified of and wanted to bite… and Puffball hardly ever wanted to bite anyone. Ditto for that night, except the dog shut up. But then, halfway through the next morning, a miracle happened.

One of the nurses, the one who had taken time to pet him and talk soothingly to him more than anyone else, brought him out of his cage into an exam room, and there was Mommy! He squeaked a greeting and nearly jumped into her arms when the nurse handed him off to her, snuggling in and more thankful than he'd ever been in his four long years of life. She hadn't abandoned him after all, hallelujah.

And so Kisshouten took the very grateful Puffball home, armed with additional meds and a vow to keep a closer eye on him so he didn't get so far downhill again. Puffball, who unfortunately lacked the brainpower to connect medication with physical improvement, was amazed that despite all that torture, he felt better now. How odd.

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A few days later, Puffball had improved some more, and resigned himself to the medication. Oh well, at least his mommy gave him a treat after it, so maybe it was really a blessing in disguise. He still didn't feel fully up to snuff, but at least his lungs were clear and he could breathe easily again.

Kisshouten had just put him back into cage after giving him his syringe (and an orange slice) when the doorbell rang. Hmm. She closed the cage and walked over, and blinked in surprise at who she found on her doorstep. Hakuryuu Waters, this time wearing a t-shirt that said "White Snake" and carrying a box, beamed at her and greeted, "Hello, Kisshouten. And how are you today?"

"Oh, I'm very well," she replied cheerfully. "And yourself?"

"I'm wonderful, thank you for asking. Listen, I brought over some sunblock," he said seriously. "Using sunblock is the single most effective way to prevent skin cancer, and I can't tell you how many times I've heard a patient lament that they didn't do it. Not to mention that the UV rays age your skin prematurely, which so many people just can't seem to comprehend. Now, I'm sure you already use sunblock, seeing as you have fabulous skin that's such a lovely pale tone, but I just happened to get these new samples and I thought you might like them," he smiled, holding the box up. "They're non-comedogenic, by the way."

"Why thank you Hakuryuu, that's very kind of you," she smiled back, feeling flattered. "Please, come on in."

She stepped back to let him do so, and he followed her into the living room with a pleasant, "My, you do know how to decorate. And–" He caught sight of Puffball's cage then, and asked almost eagerly, "Is that your guinea pig over there?"

"Yes, that's Puffball. Would you like to hold him?" she offered. Socializing your pet was always a good idea, and Puffball tended to like people, just not those at the vet's office.

"I would _love _to hold him," Hakuryuu told her, setting the box down on the coffee table. He liked animals, had fond memories of guinea pigs from both his aunt Frieda and the shelter he volunteered at, and hey, this was a good sign: "Meet an important being in my life, even though you've briefly met him before!"

So Kisshouten opened the cage, took the igloo off of Puffball, and picked him up. Thankfully he'd just finished his orange slice, or he would have been a little put out. After all, a guinea pig practically lived for his or her food, and oranges were some of his favorites.

He sniffed Hakuryuu's hand a bit suspiciously. He smelled like cats, and Puffball still remembered his last owners' cat, a near-feral super-predator that had eyed him with a promise in her eyes. Thankfully his cage had always been closed whenever that animal came around, but still.

"Hello, little friend," Hakuryuu smiled, gently scratching the bridge of his nose. "Aren't you adorable."

Ah, Puffball loved when people scratched the bridge of his nose. He made a happy little noise and tilted his head up for better access, having decided that the cat smell was inconsequential. Maybe if a cat had been around he'd be worried, but as it was, New White-haired Human was now a pal of his.

And when Kisshouten passed him over, he did not fret. He shed a lot onto Hakuryuu's shirt, but oh well, it wasn't like he could help it. Over his head the humans made small talk, a lot of it dealing with how cute and friendly Puffball was, and how important he was to Kisshouten. Hakuryuu for his part invited her over to the meet the cats, because "they love people too."

Eventually he gave her her pet back, and made his farewells. She put Puffball back in his cage and showed Hakuryuu the door, with smiles and thanks again for the sunblock and the socialization. Then he went back to his house, pleased with his clever wooing of his neighbor with his dermatological expertise, because after all, flowers were a bit much just yet.

No sooner had Kisshouten closed the door and thought, _What a nice man, _than the phone rang insistently. Once she picked it up with a sigh, she was greeted with a cheery, "Hello, Kisshouten! It's Victor. Just wanted to call and see how your new house is working out."

Victor Kujaku was her pal, and they had stayed in touch after the divorce. Kisshouten had never blamed him for taking sides, since he really hadn't. He liked both Bishamonten and Kisshouten, and had made it clear that he didn't want their friendship to end just because she was divorcing his boss. They saw less of each other now, but still met up for coffee, emailed, and talked on the phone, like now.

"My house is lovely," she replied, smiling into the phone. "But you'll never believe this: Reginald and Shashi live two houses down. Isn't that the coincidence of the decade?"

Kujaku then revealed, "James and I were placing bets on whether not you'd blow up at him. I bet it'd all be fine, he insisted you'd punch him and move away. Yes," he said proudly as she gasped in surprise, "I knew what you were getting into! Aren't I such an evil little jerk, keeping that from you? That's what James says, anyway."

She demanded, "You mean you were going to sit back and watch me spend tons of money without warning me that I'd be seeing my ex-husband?! What if we'd had a screaming match, and I ended up kicking or punching him?! What if Shashi came over and we got into a catfight? What if I'd had to go through all the hassle of selling this house and finding another, after I did so much work to get this one? Victor, that _was _evil, and jerky to the extreme."

"I've been bad," Kujaku said contritely. "But things are going well, Reginald said so, so it's a moot point right? He says you seem to be settling in, and your neighbors on the left really like you."

"Well, they–"

"They're the awesomest neighbors ever!" Kujaku proclaimed. "I've met them, because Reginald invited James and me over for lunch one weekend, and they were out doing work in their garden. And then Tenou introduced us, and it was all good. Even James likes them, like some sort of brotherhood of long-haired men who look good with their shirts off. Although he looks better than they do, obviously."

Kisshouten, who had never seen shirtless Yasha, felt a bit weirded out by the idea of Bishamonten's assistant running around in tight pants with a rocker belt, his shirt off and maybe wearing a necklace of – some sort of tusk thingy for that exotic look. He was just so _respectable_, although if Dermatology Resident Hakuryuu could be sexy at home, so could Yasha. For all she knew, James Yasha owned leather pants, jackboots, and an S & M hat, and had a tattoo on his abs of some sort of Japanese design.

Unaware of Kisshouten's (sexy) mental image, Kujaku continued, "My neighbors on the left are elderly stick-in-the-muds. James likes them, but I find them, while very nice, very boring too. If I had your neighbors, I'd be jamming out with them. Or, well, begging them to teach me to jam out with them, I can't actually play any instrument other than the kazoo and the recorder back in middle school."

"Yes, they did mention that they play guitar," Kisshouten allowed, somehow not surprised that Kujaku could play the kazoo. "And that their cousin Nathan plays drums in their band."

The conversation then turned to what Kujaku had been up to, which was the same old, same old: messing with solicitors by using silly accents since Bishamonten had banned them at work, making paperclip sculptures in his spare time at the office, reading big weighty books and comic strip collections, and going hiking with Yasha, where they had seen lovely views and a bald eagle nest.

When they said their goodbyes, Kisshouten had to wonder what kind of shenanigans her pal might get up to with her neighbors, who seemed to have good senses of humor. Well, maybe someday she'd find out.

.

The very next day, Kisshouten was extended an invitation to come over to Shashi's house while Bishamonten was on a business trip to London. Shashi had decided to put her best foot forwards, since her husband had assured her that his ex-wife wasn't out for blood and in fact had forgiven them. Much better to have a good relationship than a grudge, she'd thought as she made sure her house was spotless.

It might still be awkward, though, and she'd considered keeping Tenou with her as backup. But no, that might be too much, waving Bishamonten's son in Kisshouten's face, so instead she'd let him go off and do his own thing. So now, as Kisshouten rang the doorbell, Shashi told herself that at worst they'd have an argument and she'd win, and at best they'd become pals, as she did like Kisshouten.

"Come on in," she greeted, all smiles and friendliness. "I'm so glad you came over, I've been wanting to talk to you woman-to-woman for a while now."

"It's a good idea to clear the air," Kisshouten agreed with an answering smile, stepping inside. Ah, a nice house, not like she'd expected any different. After all, Bishamonten wouldn't live in anything less than a mansion, and this was one of those. Plus, she knew for a fact that Shashi liked expensive things too.

Shashi plied her new neighbor with cookies, tea, and an offer to meet Tenma, Tenou's guinea pig, the one who was on his hind legs against the bars of his cage and looking out with curiosity. Naturally Kisshouten accepted all three, and went over to greet the handsome Silky seal point. Aw, such a good-looking boy!

He was shyer than Puffball, though. Puffball would immediately snuggle into your shoulder or arms, Tenma sat there and gave Shashi a look that said, "Who is this stranger holding me, Maternal Human?" But he didn't make any scared noises or try to get away, and Kisshouten praised, "Isn't he just _darling? _I love the long train of fur. Is he good with other guinea pigs?"

"I don't know, they didn't say at the shelter," Shashi sighed. "But I'll bet Tenou would be more than happy to set up a playdate with Puffball, and if it goes wrong, well, the visitor can just go right back home. I'm sure you know this, but even the sweetest boars can get aggressive with other boars."

"Yes, I did," Kisshouten agreed. But they set up a piggy playdate, in Kisshouten's yard. And with the ice thus broken and a common interest explored, the tension was gone.

Shashi's motivations for hiding Tenou's paternity were discussed ("I love Reginald so much, and I wanted him to be happy with you, since he loved you too"), and a formal apology for the pain was made and accepted, as well as Kisshouten's assertion that she was better off now, so let's be friends, Kumbaya, etc., etc. It had gone much, _much _better than Shashi had expected, so maybe Kisshouten really was saintly, as Bishamonten had said when she'd refrained from freaking out at him when they met again.

Soon the conversation had drifted to, "Oh, doesn't Reginald do the stupidest things sometimes? He bought Tenou an electric guitar, without my say-so. I mean, he needed it for college, but still, I wish he'd made him pay for it himself. I blame Seiryuu and Hakuryuu Waters, plus that annoying Nathan," Shashi muttered judgmentally.

"I have a hard time believing that they tied him down and forced him to listen to them play," Kisshouten pointed out, as lightheartedly as she could. "He seems to be very into rock music now, from what I've heard. Don't you think he might have gone down that path anyway? Surely it isn't the Waterses' fault. They seem too _nice _to be a bad influence."

Shashi gave her a serious look, glanced around as if someone was eavesdropping, and whispered, "They're hoodlums. They wail on their guitars and flaunt their pervy little bodies, and then they have Nathan over and it's triple trouble. I wouldn't be surprised if they all smoke reefer when nobody else is around, and wash it down with hard liquor. If I were you, I'd stay away from them."

That was a surprise, and Kisshouten felt a little perturbed that her new friends were druggies. Maybe it _would _be wise to distance herself from them, she thought as she walked back to her house. Maybe–

The door to their house swung open just as she passed their front walk, and Seiryuu called, "Kisshouten! Are you busy?"

"No," she replied honestly, stopping and turning to face him. "Why?"

"Well, Haku just made some cookies, and I was wondering if you'd like some," he told her, simply _exuding _ camaraderie and shirtlessness. He went on, "He'd be more than happy to share, I know. Won't you come have some, please? We'd just _love _to get to know you better."

Maybe it was the fact that he was shirtless. Maybe it was the fact that she liked cats and cookies. Maybe it was the fact that they were so polite and almost charming. Whatever it was, she smiled and replied, "Thank you, that's very kind. I would love some cookies, and I didn't know he could bake."

As she'd said this she was walking up the walk, and when she reached the front steps he casually informed her, "Oh yeah, he's good with food. He makes this great chicken deván that Nathan can eat like four servings of. Me, I'm good with jokes and thinking creatively. Anyway, come right on in and I'll tell him you're here."

"I heard already," Hakuryuu smiled as Kisshouten entered the living room, taking off a pair of oven mitts and wearing an apron with "Mr. Mom's House" emblazoned on it. "The cookies are chocolate chunk, and how many would you like? Oh, Sei, if you could get her something to drink that would be great."

Kisshouten placed an order for two cookies and some coffee, and when the two males headed back into the kitchen, she realized rather smugly that this house didn't smell like marijuana at all. It smelled like baked goods, duh, but not a trace of dangerous substances. Well, except for the danger cookies posed to your waistline, but it seemed that Shashi had just been being paranoid.

Now she examined the living room, taking a seat in a comfy, stuffed armchair that surprisingly had no cat hair on it. There were pictures and rock specimens on the mantle, a widescreen TV, an elaborate sound system, a giant collection of CDs in racks, and watercolors on the walls, not to mention a huge cat jungle gym. The armchair was close enough to the mantle that she could examine its contents easily. The rocks were mostly crystal, hunks of amethyst and others she didn't know, but there were also sizable agates in a variety of colors. The pictures featured Ryuu grinning between Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, Ryuu with what looked like his parents, an elderly man dwarfed by the neighbors, and three cats.

Kisshouten wondered where Mittens, Mikey, and Muffin were, and if they were the three in the picture. If she recalled correctly, Mittens was a Maine Coon mix, and she saw a big, longhaired cat; Muffin was a Rex, and she saw a Rex; and Mikey was some sort of cat mutt, and she saw an orange kitten with short fur on its body and a plumy tail.

"Kisshouten? Would you like cream or sugar?" Hakuryuu asked, poking his head into the living room.

"Both, please," she smiled as Muffin wandered in, followed by Mikey. Hey, a visitor, yay!

And so Kisshouten had cookies and coffee, and met all three cats because Hakuryuu went the extra mile and dragged Mittens down from his bed upstairs. The cats liked her, she liked them, and wasn't this fun? Shashi was just too mean-spirited and judgmental to appreciate Seiryuu and Hakuryuu, she thought with a mental roll of her eyes. She, on the other hand, appreciated such friendliness and lack of shirts.

After much talk of professional life, she nodded to the extensive CD collection and commented, "You certainly like music, I think it's safe to say. Are they all rock?"

"No, not _all _rock," Seiryuu replied, putting down his cookie. "We have some quality pop too, but yeah, it's mostly rock in all its myriad forms. Classic, metal, Goth, alternative, punk, glam, all sorts of stuff. What's your favorite kind?" he asked encouragingly.

"I don't have one," she admitted, for the first time in her life feeling a little ashamed of that. "I listen to Classical music, quality instrumental movie soundtracks, and that's it."

Hakuryuu and Seiryuu gave her incredulous looks, looked at each other, nodded firmly, and then turned back to her as Hakuryuu proclaimed, "Then it's time to change that. I think that once you give this genre a fair listen, you'll find _something _you can appreciate. A lot of the female-fronted bands tend to use violin and other Classical instruments, and so does Smashing Pumpkins, for example."

"We'll start you out with the light stuff," Seiryuu said happily, apparently unaware that his words might have a different meaning in a different context. "Blondie, Pat Benatar, Journey, U2 especially, maybe some Foreigner if you feel like it. Give 'em all a listen, and I'll bet you any amount of money you'll like 'em if you give it a fair try."

Well, she _did _occasionally like the clips of classic rock she heard on ads, so maybe this wouldn't be so bad. So, half to humor them and half to broaden her horizons, she agreed, "All right, that's sweet of you to lend me your music. I promise I'll treat the discs well."

"I can't speak for Sei, but I've got everything on my iPod," Hakuryuu informed her. "All hail Apple for inventing such a thing."

So, when Kisshouten finally made it back to her house after six cookies and two mugs of coffee, she was laden with no less than fourteen CDs in a teetering stack. She gingerly set them down to unlock and open her door, brought them inside, and wondered if she'd actually end up really liking any. Oh, she'd probably be able to tolerate them, but the odds of a Classical aficionado liking rock were pretty low. However, Hakuryuu had mentioned that Pat Benatar had been opera-trained, so her voice at least would be decent.

Well, there was really no time to waste, she decided. She picked up the first CD on the stack, Blondie's "Greatest Hits", stuck it in her CD player, hit "Shuffle" just for kicks, and heard something interesting: the opening notes of "Rapture", that disco-era song with the weird part about a man from Mars who eats cars and bars and even guitars, not that she'd gotten that far yet. After the drums, there were those classic disco guitars, and… bells? Yes, bells, how pretty.

And hmm, she'd thought Debbie Harry sang kind of low and growly, judging by the clips she'd heard of "One Way Or Another". But no, she wasn't growling here, and sounded almost ethereal so far. Wow, this was kind of cool.

It _was _good music! It wasn't annoyingly loud so far, didn't have offensive lyrics, and was catchy, very catchy indeed. Maybe rock got a bad rap, this type at least. She had no desire to listen to something like, oh, Korn, but Blondie was fun to hear, and in fact, this song made her want to groove to it somehow.

As the guitars twanged and the bells rang again, she performed a quick disco-dance, repeatedly pointing at the ceiling and swaying her hips as Puffball looked on in confusion. What was Mommy doing? Was this some sort of… he had no idea what this might be. It wasn't a popcorn, or a rumblestrut, because there was nobody here to impress or threaten. Maybe that noise on the sound system was bothering her somehow? But no, she was smiling, so what the heck?

As Debbie began her rap about the man from Mars, Kisshouten suddenly realized that the shades were open and quickly lowered her arm, flushing a bit. Oh man, what was it about this music that made her lose her cool and collected persona?

_This is Father's fault. He never let me listen to any radio except Classical, and Mother only liked jazz, and I got so used to it that by the time I rebelled and listened to popular songs, I thought they weren't as good. And now this is so much better than the schlock turned out these days that I love it!_

So hmm, she had been tempted from the path of high-class music. Well, too bad! She still of course liked Classical better, but that didn't mean she couldn't like rock too, right? Right. It didn't require you to really listen hard to pick up on all the subtleties, and it was certainly moving in an emotional sense. And really, it took a lot of work to make it sound good; this wasn't some hip-hop/R & B song where they stole – sorry, "sampled" – another song, added a drum machine, and used Autotune to cheat.

So Kisshouten listened to the CD all the way through, and while she didn't like _every _song, there were some she really enjoyed. And then, it was time for U2!

.

Two weeks later, she had not only made it through the Blondie collection, the U2 collection, the Journey collection, the Pat Benatar collection, and the Foreigner collection, she had started in on Velvet Revolver, the Eagles, and Apocalyptica, which was an awesome blend of Classical and rock that she was planning to put on her iPod. Yay for mixing genres! Velvet Revolver was harder rock than the rest, but boy, that Slash knew his stuff. She found that she could listen to it for longer than expected, and began to wonder how her neighbors' music sounded.

Would it be too forward to invite herself over while they were practicing? Or might they be pleased by it? They _had _extended that invitation to come over anytime, and she'd been popping over to borrow CDs pretty regularly. So once she finished the current crop, she collected them into a bag, opened her door, locked it behind her, and strolled over whistling "One of These Nights", all set to ask if she could sit in on a practice session.

Ah, Ryuu's car had just pulled up, she noted as she walked down the sidewalk. The drummer got out, humming a tune of his own: "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister, the anthem of rebellious, fed-up people everywhere. He noticed her then and waved, cheerfully asking, "You need some more quality music, huh?"

"Indeed I do," she smiled in reply, falling into step with him up the front walk. "Your cousins are nice enough to lend me anything, and suggest good artists too."

Ryuu opened his mouth to ask, "So have either of them suggested something like Muse for 'Undisclosed Desires', or something equally appropriate?" but just then, Kisshouten rang the doorbell and Hakuryuu called, "Just a minute! I'll be right there!"

Soon he threw the door open and beamed, "Ah, both Kisshouten _and _Nathan. Come in, come in. Nathan, I'll help you get your drums in just a second," he said over his shoulder, making Ryuu frown and pout a bit. Great, Cousin Ryuu took a backseat to Sexy Neighbor Kisshouten. Jerk!

Kisshouten looked around the living room, noting Seiryuu, Tenou, Mittens, Muffin, and Mikey, and someone she thought she had never seen before: a pretty woman with big blue eyes, long, straight black hair styled in loops by her ears and the rest left loose, and wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt that said "Amaterasu Pwns Jesus". Clearly she was some sort of free spirit, and Kisshouten liked free spirits… plus Amaterasu, the foremost goddess of the Shinto pantheon. She was, after all, of Japanese descent.

"And here she is now!" Seiryuu grinned, pleasantly surprised. "We were just discussing you, all good things though. Kisshouten, this is Kendappa Jikokuten," he proclaimed, indicating the new woman. "She's a friend of Aaron's, you know, Aaron Zouchouten? She's the new Senior VP of Real Estate in Tenkai Corporation, and she plays the keyboard, so Tenou and Aaron wanted to connect us. Isn't that nice of them?"

Kisshouten, who now remembered meeting Darrel Jikokuten's teenage daughter eleven years ago, was pleased as punch to meet her again, although she questioned her loyalties to that awful Taishakuten. As reintroductions were made, she marveled at Kendappa's story: after Jikokuten moved off to Nepal with his family, he and Kendappa's mother Margaret had gotten a divorce when he was accepted at the monastery as a full monk. Up until then the abbot had allowed such a familial anchor to the material world, but he'd then made his forced choice for enlightenment over marriage, to Margaret's very understandable fury.

She and Kendappa had moved back to the US, and by then Kendappa was college-age. She'd majored in business, started her own company, caught Taishakuten's eye, and was given the choice of either joining him as Senior VP of Real Estate or being blown out of the business water. Being a smart woman, she'd taken the Senior VP spot. She still kept in contact with her dad via letters, which Jikokuten probably wasn't supposed to be doing, because "clinging to the connections of the life before the search for enlightenment" should be avoided at all costs. But oh well, he still loved his daughter, and he was good at hiding the letters.

"That's my story," she finished cheerfully. "I like Tenkai Corporation! Well, except for that creepy Xavier Koumokuten, who keeps giving me dirty looks when he thinks I'm not aware of it."

"He's an awful man," Tenou agreed, sounding downright serious. "I hope he doesn't bother you too much. If he does, I can have my dad take him aside and tell him to behave. Or Aaron, or both, even," he offered selflessly, and gave his new pal a bright smile.

Kendappa gave him a bright smile in return and laughed, "That's very kind of you, but I can take care of myself. I didn't get this far by letting people push me around! For example, one time I–"

No one would ever know what she did one time, because at that point Ryuu, Hakuryuu, and the bass player Drew trooped in from outside, with Ryuu's drum kit in tow and Drew's bass too. He was a lanky guy with dirty blonde hair and an infectious smile, who had successfully quit smoking and wouldn't shut up about how much better off he now was. Despite that, he was nice, and seemed to take to Kendappa pretty well, Kisshouten saw as introductions were made again and a plan of musical attack drawn up.

"Let's wing it," Hakuryuu decreed, stepping into the shoes of "frontman". "You know, we do a few chords, you do a few chords, we do some riffs, Nathan does a solo, and so on and so forth. Now, Kisshouten, I don't suppose you'd like to stay for that?" he offered hopefully.

Cool, she didn't even have to ask and look pushy. She happily replied, "I would _love _to sit in. Didn't you say the music room's in the basement?"

"Right this way," Seiryuu said as gallantly as he could, leading her towards it. "This is gonna be _fun_, I can already tell."

And once the drums were set up (the keyboard was already there), the amps were plugged in, Kisshouten had been given a chair to sit in, and things had been tuned, the room was nearly bristling with instruments: three guitars courtesy of Tenou, Seiryuu, and Hakuryuu, a bass courtesy of Drew, and the keyboard courtesy of Kendappa. It was a good thing this room was so big!

Kisshouten was just opening her mouth to ask, "So what will you start with?" when Seiryuu held up a hand, stopping everybody else short.

"Wait," he said seriously, "I have to take my shirt off. For the full effect. You don't mind, do you?" he asked as innocently as he could, as Ryuu rolled his eyes, Tenou successfully fought down a laugh, Kendappa grinned evilly, Drew cocked his head, and Hakuryuu started unbuttoning his own shirt, to beat his brother.

Kisshouten herself, who was no dummy, smiled as politely as she could and replied, "Oh, that's fine, don't worry about me. Please, take your shirts off if you feel you need to."

"_Kisshouten Megan Okami," _her father lectured in her head, _"this is inappropriate to the extreme! Tell those young men to keep themselves decent, and remind them that you are above such base instincts."_

_Father, shush. I'm not completely repressed; I was married after all. There's no harm in looking, and I know about those Target bra ads you study intently when Mom's away. You have no business telling me what I can and can't appreciate. So there, to be childish. _

Mental Tentei said nothing else, yay. Kisshouten, to her credit, did not blatantly stare at her now-shirtless neighbors, because after all, this was nothing new. It was still nice, though, and Kendappa was probably also studying the sculpted–

Actually, she wasn't. Hmm. Well, maybe she had a boyfriend? Maybe she was a lesbian? Maybe she was just one of those straight women who felt uncomfortable around shirtless men? Or maybe she just wanted to play the music already, but whatever it was, she wasn't activelyavoiding looking at her new friends, but she seemed completely disinterested. Her loss.

As various chords and such were practiced with much enthusiasm, Kisshouten pondered this attraction to shirtless younger rockers. Odd, since her ex-husband was so straight-laced and all her boyfriends prior to him had been respectable too. Well, c'mon, it wasn't like she was feeling up drug dealers on unemployment who beat women and kicked puppies, she was just appreciating her friendly neighbors who'd shown her the joy of a new genre of music, and given her cookies and such. Surely that made it all right, who cared if they were younger?

The two thing might be a problem, though. That was a no-no, although to her surprise they seemed not to be mad at each other over it. Why was that? Maybe it was a purely casual attraction, or something?

Unbeknownst to her, on Day One of this competition for her attention, there had been a serious talk of, "Now Sei/Haku, you know you're my brother and I love you. If you end up being the one our elegant/jukujo neighbor chooses, I won't begrudge you that/sulk over it like a whiny kid. Let's keep this civil, and remember, it's very possible that she might not like either of us."

Boy, things might have gotten ugly if they hadn't mutually agreed not to wreck their relationship over this. If pushed far enough, Hakuryuu would have lost it in another blowup, maybe hurling some cookie bars at Seiryuu's head and pouring Coke onto his laptop. Seiryuu would have retaliated by sneaking a virus onto Hakuryuu's computer, and maybe vandalizing his sexiest pair of pants too. And Ryuu would have been caught in the middle, tugged two ways and desperately crying, "Guys, chill out! Bros over hos!" Which would have resulted in an immediate turning on of Ryuu, both of them informing him that their sexy neighbor wasn't a ho at all.

Perhaps, in a parallel universe, that was what happened. Perhaps the police had to be called to pry Seiryuu and Hakuryuu apart, and Kisshouten took one look at Officer Studly and decided he was better fit anyway. But here in this universe, the real one and not a theoretical one, Seiryuu found himself thinking, _Ooh, you pulled out the __special__ brownies, that was clever. Smooth, Haku! _and Hakuryuu in turn thought, _Ah, the old "I know some Japanese" trick, that was a good one. Well played, Sei!_

The music was good, and Kendappa knew her stuff, both with the piano part and the synthesizer. She was having fun just like everybody else, and for a couple glorious hours, melodies were improvised, known songs were played, guitar solos were soloed, Ryuu demonstrated his skillful handling of the drums, and Kisshouten sat there and clapped. To think, she would have been reading a boring book now if she hadn't come over.

Finally, with much reluctance, Kendappa sighed, "I have to go now, I've got things I need to do for work. But this was great! We should totally make a habit of doing this."

"You should just join our band, period," Ryuu urged, turning on the charm. "We'd love to have you! And with Tenou here for the summer, think of what we can do! C'mon, become part of Dragon Tribe, we give you baked goods and everything."

Kendappa grinned, "Well sure I'll join the band! My name can be 'Eastern General', or something. After all, it's a hobby band, not a striving for the big-time one." With that there were high-fives all around, Kisshouten included, and Tenou high-fived Kendappa twice, actually.

"Well, see you guys later!" Kendappa farewelled, and she lugged her keyboard out to her car, whistling David Bowie's "Changes". Tenou dogged her steps and waved until she drove away, then turned back and smiled, "Wow, she's so cool. You guys are lucky you met her, she'll be a great addition to the band. I mean, keyboard _and _harp? Both could be really useful, for a distinctive sound if she uses the harp."

"She seems nice," Seiryuu said cheerfully. "Hard to believe she's a ruthless business executive."

"She's pretty too," Ryuu chipped in, watching Tenou very, very carefully.

"Oh, she is," Tenou agreed, an expression of blissful longing on his face. "Really nice, and really pretty, and really, really… _perfect_."

His dream woman existed! And her name was Kendappa Jikokuten. She even had the musical talents plus the big blue eyes and long dark hair, and she was probably down with wearing sweatpants in public too. And she thought he was nice as well, so all he had to do was woo her and make that change into _love_.

.

Two weekends later, Tentei was over at Kisshouten's house. He'd been over before, but today, he was on a mission. This mission involved improving her life, AKA dispensing advice that he had learned from many years of living on this earth. Yes, she had been lonely long enough, and it was time to gently nudge her from her sheltered harbor of solitude into the current of dating a quality man.

He was almost appalled that her ex-husband lived two houses down. The nerve of that man, living so near to poor Kisshouten with his new hussy wife! Well, what Kisshouten had to do was find someone better, and wave him in their faces. Tentei actually had someone in mind, a handsome scientist he worked with who had never been married, and was so very nice and intelligent. Unfortunately for Tentei, Bernard Howkin was one of those unusual people who, while not asexual at all, had decided that they wanted no partner, romantic or sexual.

Yes, they were around. It was near-shocking to most people in this day and age of multiple life (and sex) partners, and prolonged singlehood being viewed as evidence that someone was gay, but the fact remained that a select few were quite happy being alone. But unaware of this, Tentei planned to plant the seeds of appreciation for Bernard, and maybe, if all went well, he'd get a _better _son-in-law.

So when his daughter let him in the house, humming something that didn't sound Classical at all, he told himself that the time was ripe for change. Surely she was so very lonely here, with just the guinea pig for company. A nice, quality man would brighten her life and erase the sting of Bishamonten, he thought as she handed him some green tea and sat down across from him on the couch.

"Kisshouten," he intoned, like a wise old mystic sharing the secret to happiness, "you need to find someone new. Have you considered this?"

Kisshouten smiled, "Yes. And in fact, Father, I–"

_Ding-dong!_

She started to rise, but Tentei was still in Daddy Mode. "Wait right here sweetheart, I'll get the door," he told her, getting up himself. It was _her _door and she was forty-two, but who cared? He was the father here!

He crossed to the door, opened it, and gasped in shock at what it revealed: two young men, both with long hair and headbands for some inexplicable reason, wearing tight t-shirts and ripped jeans. One was carrying a bottle of wine, the other was holding – oh God no! – a CD with _roses _on the cover! This was a bad sign that ranked as serious as all the water pulling away from a beach, thus signaling a tsunami.

The white-haired guy smiled and held out a hand, greeting, "You must be Tentei. Kisshouten's told us so much about you. I'm Hakury–"

Tentei slammed the door shut and locked it before Gigolo One could finish, and hissed, "Kisshouten! I am _appalled!_" Now she was patronizing male hookers! Bishamonten was in _big _trouble now.

She gave him a look of confusion. Before she could ask, "Why are you appalled?" he continued with, "They must be twenty years younger than you! And two! My innocent little girl, why?!" This was all said in a vehement whisper so the male hookers couldn't hear.

Kisshouten opened her mouth to assuage his fears, but another ring of the doorbell cut her off. Tentei glared at the door as a muffled voice snapped, "Sei, don't do that! He obviously knows we're here."

"Honey," Tentei practically sobbed, "honey, just because that scumbag left you it doesn't mean you should endanger yourself with male prostitutes!" He drew breath to lecture on the dangers of STDs and possible sexual assault, but–

"Father!" Kisshouten barked. "Those are my _neighbors!_"

He studied her in suspicion, and warily asked, "Neighbors? Are you lying to me, Kisshouten Megan Okami?"

_Ding-dong!_

"Stop that!" the first voice hissed, and there was a sound like someone whapping someone else on the head.

"OW! Geez, Haku!"

"Yes, my _neighbors_," Kisshouten told her father in an almost disgusted whisper. "Honestly. That was so mean I can't believe you said it. They're very nice, and when you meet them, you'll see that you have nothing to fear." And with that, she nudged him aside none to gently, and swung the door back open with an apologetic, "Please forgive my father, he makes snap judgments and became scared of you, I think."

Oh great, now Tentei sounded like a paranoid oldster who cowered in his living room when a stranger came to his door. He managed to stop himself from glaring at these punks as they stepped inside, but did _not _return their smiles. The black-haired one gave him a slightly perturbed look, and the white-haired one just smiled harder, like he was trying to break through Tentei's defenses with a cheery expression. Well, think again, Guy Who Desperately Needed a Haircut.

"Father, this is Hakuryuu Waters," Kisshouten introduced the smiling one. "And his brother, Seiryuu," she went on, indicating the other one. "Hakuryuu and Seiryuu, this is my father, Tentei Okami."

"Pleased to meet you," they said in unison, thrusting their hands out.

Tentei shook Seiryuu's first, as he was closer, and noted the really firm grip. Great, they were probably manual laborers or something. But wait, how could manual laborers afford to live here? He pondered that as Hakuryuu shook his hand too, and decided that maybe they just liked trying to crush new people's hands.

"Why did you bring over wine?" he bluntly asked Hakuryuu, indicating the bottle with a sharp nod of his head.

"Yes, why did you?" Kisshouten asked, sounding very curious. Aha, his poor daughter had no idea that these fools were trying to hit on her.

"Well, you said you liked it, and there was a sale down at the store, and we thought you might like to try this one. It's white, from some new California winery, and they were two for one and we wanted a bottle, so Sei suggested that we bring the second over to you," Hakuryuu replied, with another winning smile.

"And the CD?" Tentei queried, still suspicious. After all, these were handsome men wearing sexy outfits, and _his _neighbors never bought him wine just because he'd mentioned that he liked it. Something was up, he was pretty sure.

"Oh, 'Greatest Hits', Guns N' Roses," Seiryuu smiled, holding it up. And indeed, there were two guns as well, which Tentei had missed noticing due to his paranoia.

"Kisshouten said she'd like to hear Axl and Slash together, right Kisshouten?" Seiryuu continued, handing it over. "Since nowadays they hate each other so much a reunion tour is a definite no, you can only hear the beauty that was their musical partnership on old albums. Although really, they were arguing a lot back then too," he sighed, annoyed that giant egos had put a stop to yet another winning rock formula.

Well, now Tentei felt a _little _better, but still, this was bad. The sixth sense of a father protecting his offspring from undesirable mates had come into play, and if Tentei knew one thing from his sixty-six years of living, it was to trust your gut. And his gut was screaming, "They want Kisshouten! We must find a way to negate them!"

"So what do you do?" he asked them as a unit, expecting an unsuitable answer that he could use to his advantage.

"I'm a computer programmer," Seiryuu said proudly, and Hakuryuu immediately one-upped him with, "I'm a dermatologist. Well, almost, one more year of residency left and I'm there."

Tentei decided to address his words to the health professional instead of the hacker, because he knew how to talk to fellow scientists. Besides, Seiryuu would probably infuse his communications with leek-speech, or whatever the hell those crazy kids called it. Tentei himself hated computers, mostly because he was inept with them, so anyone who fiddled around with the demon machines for a living had to be bad news. Maybe the dermatologist could be reasoned with.

"Well, she's got her wine and CD now, thank you, Hakuryuu. Why don't you two young'uns go back home," he tried, sending them a smile with narrowed eyes.

Seiryuu and Hakuryuu, being intelligent "young'uns", exchanged a glance and then agreed, "Sure," and, "Okay." Seiryuu added, "Nice to meet you, Tentei. Seeya, Kisshouten, and remember, Guns N' Roses is best appreciated at high decibels!"

The moment they had cleared the door, Tentei closed it and muttered, "Trying to turn her into a groupie, are you?"

"No," Kisshouten snapped, gripping the wine hard and glaring at her father. "Not in the least, and I can't believe how rude you were! They were being very friendly, and you drove them away with your overactive imagination. In fact, I don't think I want to talk to you right now, you were so mean."

Tentei considered his next actions. If he tried to bring up Bernard now, she'd refuse to hear it out of annoyance. So the thing to do was bring him up at a later date, one when she was in a good mood and hadn't just defended her friends. At the same time, he would discuss this new development with Megan, who would surely agree with him that the neighbors had to be negated. How he didn't know, but there had to be a way, there just _had _to. If he didn't save her, he'd walk in one day to find poor Kisshouten tied up with – with their headbands, as they proceeded to take terrible advantage of her.

So he smiled, "Okay Princess, I'm leaving. Just remember that if they ever try to feel you up, a punch to the nose and a scream should–"

"Out," she growled, pushing him through the door and slamming it behind him. Why, the nerve! Maybe this was more serious than he'd thought. He frowned and walked down the sidewalk, taking his keys out and wondering if he should install a remote camera in her living room for her own safety.

And then, just as he was about to unlock his car by remote, someone caught his eye, on the second yard to the left. Well well, if it wasn't Reginald "Cheating Bastard" Bishamonten, who had just caught sight of him as well. Tentei's instinct was to flip him off, but instead he walked over there, as Bishamonten for a moment looked like he wanted to go back inside but walked towards his ex-father-in-law as well.

"Hello Tentei," he greeted, smiling his "polite businessman" smile as they met in front of the Waterses' house. "How are you? How's Megan? How is your research coming along?" He seemed to think small talk would protect him, Tentei sneered.

"Well Reginald–" _Well whoremongering ingrate, _"–Megan is fine and my research is going well, but I myself am still very put out at your selfish and hurtful actions towards my beloved daughter, who must be crying into her hands each night," he replied, in a matter-of-fact yet very grumpy tone.

Bishamonten's smile faltered, but he responded with, "Tentei, Kisshouten has moved on. Yes I hurt her, which I'm still sorry for, but we've come to see that–"

"I have not forgiven you," Tentei went on, ignoring Bishamonten's words. "I think there should be a fine for men who string their wives along while they carry on with an old flame. I think you need a prison sentence for destroying Kisshouten's life. I think you should engage in self-flagellation for what you did."

Bishamonten drew himself up to his full height and used the "powerful executive" voice as he replied, "Tentei, let's not forget that Kisshouten initiated the divorce, and that there was no 'carrying on' until that happened. Let's also keep in mind that Shashi is the mother of my child and the woman I would have already married two decades ago," he barked.

Tentei really wanted to make the fucker eat his Rolex, but Bishamonten was continuing, "And I did not destroy Kisshouten's life! She was understandably very upset, but she's a well-rounded person who went on to win even more awards, make new friends, and _forgive me_."

Before he could lose it completely and try to beat Bishamonten's head against the sidewalk (and thus be pummeled in self-defense), Tentei turned on his heel and walked off, giving his ex-son-in-law the cold shoulder. Fine! Bishamonten could rationalize it away all he wanted, but _Tentei _knew he'd done a horrible thing that would hopefully send him to Hell when he died. The research scientist would look down from Heaven into the infernal abyss, and approve of Satan's torture methods.

Bishamonten watched him go, sighed in resignation, and thought, _How sad, that you and I used to be so close, and now you can't stand the sight of me._

.

The next Saturday, Kisshouten had invited Kendappa over for a chat, and then at the last minute decided to include Shashi too. Shashi wasn't so bad if you got to know her – well, if she liked you in return, that was. Whatever, she had accepted, and now the three of them were sitting in Kisshouten's living room, Puffball having been passed around like a snuggly, sweet drug of some sort. He was munching on a carrot, and the humans were munching on crackers and cheese.

Shashi was saying, "Tenou seems to be quite fond of you, Kendappa. He really looks forward to those practice sessions with the band even more now, since you joined. Now, what did you say your stage name was?"

"I'm Eastern General," Kendappa proudly proclaimed. "See, 'Eastern' since I'm a Buddhist, and 'General' because I'm one of Taishakuten's Generals of the Boardroom. See? It's appropriate, and we all have appropriate names. Tenou's is 'Red Prince', for his hair and last name," she informed Kisshouten with a smile.

"Yes, yes," Shashi sighed, sounding incredibly weary of this subject, even though she'd brought it up. "Stage names seem to be a must for rockers, at least this group. Now, if I may change the subject, don't you find Arthur to be just the most loathsomeand selfish man you've ever met, Kendappa? I can't believe I once thought I'd be happy being married to him," she muttered in disgust.

Kendappa flatly replied, "I like strong people. He's very strong, the strongest person I know. I don't like him _personally_, but he's my boss and I'm grateful for my position." As Shashi started to frown, Kendappa grinned and added, "But I'd never want to be married to him either. His partner Karl must be dumber than a rock, to freely choose to be his mate."

Ah, bashing on Taishakuten and Ashuraou! Kisshouten was more than happy to do that, since she hated the CEO as well. As for Ashuraou, well, if he'd fallen in love with Taishakuten, he needed his head examined in her opinion. She vaguely recalled that he had a son who despised Taishakuten, and sent a little prayer up to Heaven that Ashura would someday be free of such a mean, vindictive, selfish, violent-minded, and basically terrible _fucker_.

"I feel sorry for Nina," she sighed. "She has to slave away under that awful man, and does she ever get a word of thanks? No, of course not, Taishakuten only ever thanks his Senior VPs and the man he lusts for, I have a hard time believing he's capable of actual love."

Before Kendappa could respond, Shashi jumped in with, "He's not, he can't be! He's very good at _faking _love, but if he and Karl were being chased by – by terrorists intent on killing one of them, he'd toss Karl to them and make his getaway, I'm dead certain of that. I mean, by God, the man's a sociopath, and sociopaths only care about themselves, after all."

Whether or not Taishakuten would in fact throw Ashuraou to the terrorists was a moot point, seeing as the likelihood of terrorists chasing them instead of just blowing them up wasn't very likely. Maybe he would and maybe he wouldn't; he did in fact love the man, but boy, he sure loved himself too.

"I too feel sorry for Nina," Kendappa said almost dreamily, a faraway look in her eyes. "She's so sweet, and he's so mean to her."

Yes, Kendappa Jikokuten was finding herself very, very attracted to Nina Souma. Both were lesbians, although neither knew that about the other yet, and they matched each other's tastes. Kendappa liked tall babes with short skirts who were kind but could take care of themselves, and had a sense of honor and duty. And Souma liked women shorter than her with masses of hair who wore sexy pantsuits, who were nice but could also be aggressive when needed, and had a sense of humor. Why, one might say that it had been written in the stars that they'd finally meet, and in fact, Souma was pretty sure that she had found Her Lady, the ideal woman for her.

Unaware of that part, Kisshouten urged, "You should make sure you tell her that you support her, then. After all, she must have a very difficult life, dealing with him day in, day out. James and Ellen have it easy, Ellen more so than James, but he still has a more understanding boss than Nina or poor Edward Varuna do."

"Reginald is _far _superior to Xavier at work, and in every way you could possibly think of," Shashi proclaimed, ever so proud of her husband. "After all, Xavier slacks off, abuses his underlings, keeps trying to get more power, and basically demonstrates the principle that if it's ugly on the outside, it's ugly on the inside too. Now, _Reginald_ works hard, treats even his insane secretary well, has a firm grip on his power that he earned, and is so handsome he knocks your socks off."

Kendappa, whose socks had stayed on around Bishamonten, shrugged and agreed, "Yup, Xavier's inferior, end of story. But speaking of Reginald, I find it super-cool how you two can hang out without a fight."

"One moves on," Kisshouten serenely responded. "One finds activities and other people to focus on. One accepts what happened and finds good in it, and works through her bad feelings, and starts to realize that other people might be a better fit. If only my father could see it that way," she muttered.

"Yes, Reginald said Tentei had sharp words for him the other day," Shashi chipped in, her eyebrows lowering in concern. "I wish he'd be more understanding."

Kisshouten assured her, "I think in time he will be. He's still adjusting to the fact that you and Reginald live so close to me, but I'm sure that given enough time, he'll come to forgive you two and accept that what's done is done, and we've all become friendly with each other. Eventually, my father will come around."

As she said this, Tentei was using a pair of scissors on mini-Bishamonten, in a last-ditch attempt to make voodoo work. He cut off half of the doll's left arm, glowering and muttering, "This is your last chance, voodoo. If something doesn't happen, I'm eschewing you completely from now on."

.

The very next day, Shashi found herself at a park, accompanied by her husband and their son. Also accompanying them were Zouchouten, Karura, and Karyoubinga, for a nice hike that would prove to have a not-nice ending. Everybody was lugging giant water bottles, wearing shorts and tank tops (and sunscreen), and Zouchouten wasn't fretting _too _much over the fourth member of his family who wasn't with them, for good reason.

His and Karura's infant son, little Andrew, had been left with the nanny who adored him, the one who cared for him while his parents were at work. He liked her a lot, but boy, did he love when Mommy and Daddy came home, and Karyou too, from school. He was a happy child, with big golden eyes and downy white hair, and he also loved Lola, who had adopted him as her charge. She could often be found lying underneath his crib, and whenever it was nursing time, she stood guard as if to make sure Karura was doing it right.

Lola had stayed home too, actually, to be with Andrew. This was just fine with Shashi, because she hated dogs. Tenou was disappointed because he liked Lola, but oh well, he understood that she might be happier with the baby. But they were all having fun, even though there was that coolness between his mother and Zouchouten.

Soon they came upon the fateful waterfall, off a sheer cliff and splashing down amongst a pile of water-worn boulders. They were below it, soon walking along the shore towards this curtain of falling river, picking their ways between the other boulders, some of which were much sharper. It was a beautiful setting, one that Tenou made sure to take pictures of. Cool, he could impress Kendappa with his photography skills!

"Hey Dad," he suggested good-naturedly, "we should get a shot of you on one of the rocks over there."

"All right," Bishamonten agreed, equally good-naturedly. And with that, he mounted one and sauntered his way over to another sticking out of the water, parts of which were wet (cue ominous music).

Shashi called, "Reginald, I don't think that looks safe. Tenou honey, why don't you get a shot of your father on one of the dry rocks. That way, I won't feel so nervous. Reginald, please, come back! What if you hurt yourself?" she nearly pleaded, her hands on her hips.

"Don't worry Shashi," Bishamonten said proudly, "I have such good balance that – whoa!"

Giving the lie to his words, he slipped on the wet rock, tottered for a moment, and went down like some sort of designer-clad sack of bricks.

_WHAM!_

_Crack!_

"AAAH!"

"REGINALD!" Shashi shrieked as her husband's left arm broke on the rock, just as Tenou yelled, "DAD!" and Zouchouten and Karura winced. Karyoubinga had clapped her hands over her eyes, afraid to watch Bishamonten's head get bashed in.

Unfortunately she hadn't clapped her hands over her ears, and thus was exposed to a string of curses that by all rights should have earned Bishamonten a time-out, his mouth rinsed out with soap, and a lecture from Karura on being polite. After all, if Karyoubinga had said them, that's what she would have gotten. That and a ban on TV and computer use except for school.

But no. Everyone else rushed towards the fallen man, babbling things like, "Can you move your arm?" or, "Is it broken?" or, "Sexykins, don't ever scare me like that again!"

"It's broken," Bishamonten confirmed through gritted teeth, desperately trying to hold back tears of pain. "It has to be, it hurts like _hell _and it's at a strange angle."

"Okay, no one panic," Karura said firmly. "What we need to do is call an ambulance and keep him still."

"Um, no ambulance can get out here. They can get to the parking lot, but not down the trail because we hiked for like a mile and a half to get here," Tenou pointed out almost meekly. "But maybe we can call while we're walking back, and splint the arm so he can walk without tons of pain. Aaron _did _bring a First Aid kit."

Dr. Shashi took charge then, with a firm, "Tenou's right. Ellen, find a straight stick about eight inches long. Aaron, take off your shirt for a sling. Karyoubinga, get the First Aid kit, and I'll patch Reginald up. Reginald honey, deep breaths, you're going to be fine, I promise. Tenou honey, help me with his arm."

And so Shashi's medical expertise was put to good use, even though she hadn't had to do anything remotely like this for years, ever since Tenou had sprained his wrist at age thirteen. Bishamonten, desperately trying not to cry, soon had his arm immobilized, slung in a sling, and basically as taken care of as possible all the way out here. But now what? How to get him back to the parking lot in as little time as possible, when movement made the pain worse?

"Why don't you just carry him, Aaron?" Karyoubinga suggested. "You walk the fastest out of anybody, and then he's not on his feet and jarring the arm with movement as much. You and Shashi and Tenou can go on ahead, because I'd slow you down, but Ellen and I can catch up at the parking lot."

Genius child! Embarrassing genius, Bishamonten thought as Zouchouten gingerly hefted him into his arms, but now was no time to be whining about insulted masculinity. The faster he got help, the better. Still, he was _so _glad Koumokuten wasn't here to make a nasty crack about this.

And so the trek back to the parking lot began, Tenou and Shashi trotting to keep pace with Zouchouten, Karyoubinga and Karura getting farther and farther behind. Bishamonten glared up at the sky, and muttered, "I hate hiking, Aaron."

"No, you hate having your arm broken," Zouchouten returned with a sigh. "Shashi, do you have some Kleenex? Maybe you could wipe his tears away, it might make it less embarrassing."

"I'm not crying," Bishamonten stubbornly insisted, blinking to rid his lashes of that annoying moisture. "I just got sunscreen in my eyes."

"Reginald, it does not make you any less of a man if you cry when you break a bone," Zouchouten flatly replied. "In fact, if you _don't _shed a few tears from that pain, it's not broken at all. Seriously, when I broke my ankle playing rugby in college, I cried like a baby in front of the majority of the school. It was an exhibition match," he sighed, still ruing that overly aggressive lock forward.

"All right, I'm crying," his friend admitted with his voice quavering. "It hurts more than anything else that's ever happened to me, like my arm's on fire, and every time my heart beats it hurts some more. Can you go any faster?" he nearly pleaded.

"Well, um, yes, but we might leave Shashi and Tenou in the dust–"

"Walk faster, you lumbering beast of burden!" Shashi snarled, already breaking into a jog. "Honestly! What, did you think I wore heels to go hiking? Pick up the pace, Reginald needs medical attention!"

The supposed lumbering beast of burden shot her back a molten glare, but did speed up. They encountered a family with two small children going the other way, and the kids gave them quizzical looks. One of them, with the trademark lack of censoring that all kids possess, curiously asked Zouchouten, "Are you gay for that guy?"

"Trisha!" the mom gasped.

"NO!" Bishamonten snapped.

"He's injured," Zouchouten explained.

"That was rude, young lady," Shashi bitched.

"What's gay?" the even younger boy asked.

"Sorry," the dad apologized.

"That's okay," Tenou replied cheerfully.

As the kids and their red-faced parents disappeared around a bend behind them, Shashi growled, "The nerve of that little brat! Tenou honey, next time don't tell them such a thing was permissible, all right? It was most certainly _not _okay, and if we didn't need to get to the parking lot as quickly as possible, I would have lectured her on jumping to conclusions and being rude."

"Mother, she was like five," Tenou pointed out reasonably. "How can you expect a five-year-old to know any better? I mean, when I was five, you said I once–"

"That's why you tell them they were out of line! Sweetheart, I know you like children, but the fact remains that our society has gotten way too lax in teaching them the right way to behave," Shashi sniffed.

For the next twenty minutes, they were subjected to horror stories about out-of-control children that Shashi had encountered. Bishamonten was actually pleased about this, because while he was focusing on bratlings, he wasn't focusing on the agony in his arm. Poor Zouchouten, on the other hand, wished with all his heart for a different subject, as did Tenou. But since both had picked up on the fact that it was helping Bishamonten, they kept their mouths shut. They did, however, exchange fed-up glances every now and then.

Finally Shashi stopped, but only to pull out her phone and call the ambulance. And in a masterpiece of timing, it arrived just as they stepped off the trailhead onto the sidewalk of the parking lot, yay! Shashi made sure to mention who had set this exquisite splint (in the exact words of one of the EMTs), and all was well. Except, of course, for the fact that Bishamonten had decided he was never coming back to this godforsaken trail again.

.

The next day was Monday (duh), and as Kisshouten headed to her garage to leave for the studio that morning, she heard a hail of, "Oh, Kisshouten! I have some bad news!" from two houses down. Concerned, she turned to see Tenou waving at her, not looking too upset. Good, it wasn't _awful_ news then, like one of his parents had cancer, or his aunt and uncle were getting a divorce, or Tenma had died.

"What is it?" she asked curiously, expecting some sort of "Tenma has a cold" or "My dad got a pay cut" answer. Instead, she got a sighed, "My dad broke his arm yesterday, while we were hiking."

"Did he? Ouch. Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. He's got a cast and a sling now, but he's all upset because he can't wear his nice suits for a while. He's going to have to make do with nice shirts with one sleeve rolled up and the ties he likes so much," Tenou replied, privately thinking that Bishamonten was silly. He himself hated ties and suits, and would have taken any excuse not to wear them.

Kisshouten could believe that Bishamonten was upset. Even the man's exercise clothes were designer, and he had more suits than polo shirts, more pressed slacks than shorts, and more nice shoes than tennis shoes. And his tie collection was extensive, and not even very interesting. Yes, Bishamonten liked to look natty, so he was probably feeling so underdressed at the office right about now. He'd probably compensate by buying a new suit, really, and a couple more power ties to boot.

"How did it happen?" Kisshouten asked Tenou, wondering if Bishamonten had fallen off a small ledge or something.

"It was partially my fault," he admitted, sounding very guilty. "See, we were by a waterfall, and I was taking pictures to show Kendappa. Then I thought it'd be a good one for my family to keep if he was on one of of the rocks farther out, in the water. It was wet, and he slipped and fell. He doesn't blame me, but I blame myself," he finished with a sigh of remorse.

"You shouldn't, since you didn't push him, after all," she smiled, and he smiled back. "Now, is it his right arm or his left arm that's broken?" Bishamonten was right-handed, and if that was the incapacitated limb, he would be in trouble for a while.

Tenou replied, "His left arm, thankfully. If it was his right, I think he'd be pretty upset. As it is, though, he's having a hard enough time with it."

As Kisshouten worked on a painting at the studio, she thanked her lucky stars that she didn't have a broken arm. If (heaven forbid) her right arm was broken, that would curtail all art until it was healed, and it would need practice to get back to full performance. But even if her left arm was out of commission, it would be difficult to hold Puffball, cut up her food, and do everyday little things like that, and impossible to drive or even floss her teeth, for example. She decided to get Bishamonten a "Get Well" card, and offer to help if needed.

By the time she got home hours later, she had procured a suitable card. She set it on the table to write in later, because Tentei was coming over again any minute now. He seemed to be coming over a lot lately, and it was starting to bother her, actually, the way he glared at her next-door neighbors and kept bashing on the Prince-Bishamonten family.

No sooner had she thought that then she saw his car drive up, and went out to greet him. He gave her a benevolent smile and asked, "And how are you today, honey?"

"Oh, I'm very well, thank you. And yourself?"

"Perfectly fine, thank you dear. Now, why are you glancing over at that hussy's house with a concerned expression?" he queried suspiciously.

"Please don't say things like that, and I'm worried about Reginald," she sighed. "He went hiking yesterday, and broke his left arm. Thankfully it wasn't his right, but still, I feel so sorry for him."

A broken _arm? _After Tentei had cut one off the voodoo doll the day before? It had even been the left arm he'd severed! Oh sweet vindictive God, he'd actually done it! The doll was working, and he'd made Bishamonten pay for his sins. He was so proud, and in fact, this triumph had to be shared with his daughter.

So he beamed, "Well, that's to be expected, honey. That's what I intended to happen."

She gave him an incredulous and suspicious look, and demanded, "What do you mean, that's what you intended to happen?"

"Sweetheart," he said proudly, "it's thanks to me and Practical Voodoo for the Modern Age that he broke his arm. Next, I think I'll unravel the doll's crotch so his genitals drop off, are crushed, or wither away through a wasting virus." He beamed and added, "I did it for you, Princess."

He expected her to throw her arms around him and thank him, or at least lecture him for being so violent… so he was almost distressed when she burst out laughing. Why was she doing that? Ah, maybe she was laughing at Bishamonten's pain. Ha, yes, it was good to see her do that, he thought fondly, and considered throwing his head back and joining in with much enthusiasm.

"Father," she giggled, wiping a tear from her eye, "Reginald broke his arm because he slipped and fell on a sharp rock near a waterfall. Voodoo doesn't work! You're a scientist, you know that."

"Kisshouten, this is evidence that voodoo _does _work. I believed hard enough, and it caused him pain," he solemnly replied.

"Stop it," she ordered, now sounding annoyed. "Don't try to hurt the poor man. Father, how many times do I have to tell you that I no longer hate him? We're getting along quite well. I'm even getting along with Shashi!"

He patted her on the head paternally and soothed, "Honey, you don't have to force yourself to interact with such awful people. You can be honest with me, you know I won't call you someone who holds a grudge, or a petty–"

"Hey Kisshouten!" a cheerful voice called from the left. "Boy, it's a scorcher today, huh?"

Tentei turned to look, and gasped in horror. Seiryuu waved at them, shirtless and wearing sunglasses, carrying a glass of what was probably alcohol because he was a hoodlum and therefore drank anything alcoholic he could. And oh God, the waistband of the deviant's boxers could be seen! Why didn't the stupid thug use that studded belt he was wearing to keep his pants at a respectable level?

Tentei glared at the pervert tempting his pure offspring. Kisshouten smiled, waved, and called, "It sure is! Thank heavens for air conditioning, hmm?" as he glared.

"For sure," Seiryuu agreed, ever so casually tightening his abs. Tentei noted this, and considered marching over and dumping the supposed alcohol over the younger man's head. Hopefully it would get into his eyes, and he'd have permanent damage.

"Would you like some iced tea?" Seiryuu offered, unaware of Tentei's violent fantasy. "I brought the pitcher out. And Tentei, how about you?"

Tentei wanted to say, "No iced tea for me, you exhibitionistic, boytoy, noise-producing hippie who should be strangled with that headband. Don't you _ever _offer my daughter food or drink again! I know your type: you probably keep a running tally of innocent women you've seduced, and brag about your exploits on that Fakebook site. I'll bet you'd take footage too, and post it on a porn website." But instead of saying all that, he gave Seiryuu a brittle smile and replied, "No thank you."

Kisshouten gave Seiryuu a real smile and replied, "Why thank you, that would be lovely. Father, are you sure? It's so hot out here, and it's a free beverage," she coaxed.

"I'm sure," Tentei said shortly, refusing to honor the hippie with a shared drink. As Seiryuu shrugged and Kisshouten sighed, he went on, "I'm not thirsty. Kisshouten, don't you have your own iced tea?"

"Not at the moment," she told him a little snappily, as Seiryuu walked back over to the pitcher sitting on the steps. "Seiryuu is being nice enough to share, and unlike you, I'm thirsty and I appreciate his offer." Then, in a low whisper so her neighbor couldn't hear, she hissed, "You act like it's poison, honestly. Can't you be nice?"

Her dad said nothing in response, just watched with a grumpy expression as Seiryuu called over his shoulder, "Hold on, I'll go get you a glass," and ducked back inside the house. Hmph. Why would Tentei want to be nice to this fool, the one that was hitting on his precious daughter? He was _not _suitable mate material for a host of reasons, starting with the fact that he was in his twenties and liked horrible music. Then there was the exhibitionism, and the computer thing, and the–

"Okay, here we go," Seiryuu grinned, coming back out with a tall glass. He poured a generous libation of iced tea into it, and handed it to his pal with another smile, which she returned.

Tentei was convinced that Seiryuu was ogling his daughter's unmentionable chest parts behind those stupid sunglasses. In fact, that was the only reason he was wearing them, it had to be! He'd noticed poor Kisshouten out the window and donned the things so he could dishonor her with his gaze, and the iced tea was just a trick to lure her closer!

In reality, the computer programmer had wandered outside with the iced tea because Hakuryuu was pissy again, and he'd decided not to deal with his uptight brother. He was wearing sunglasses because it was, in fact, very bright out, and he was not staring at Kisshouten's boobs at all.

He was no fool. Leaving aside the fact that ogling somebody's chest was incredibly rude, Tentei was right there, and Seiryuu had the knowledge that Tentei didn't like him. Too bad, but you couldn't please everybody! The oldster was obviously set in his ways, and Seiryuu wasn't about to push him, it would do no good. Well, maybe with time and as Tentei became more familiar with him, he wouldn't dislike him so much.

"So Kisshouten, how are you liking the Aerosmith collection?" he asked pleasantly, figuring that no matter what he said, Tentei would get upset at it. And indeed, the older man thought, _Aerosmith, you say? You gave my daughter music from a group with a lead singer who wears feathers in his hair, and had a love child with a groupie?!_

"I'm liking it so much, you have no idea," she replied, after sipping some most refreshing iced tea. "So far I think my favorite song is 'Cryin',' but 'Dude Looks Like a Lady' always makes me grin."

_Cross-dressing?! In my daughter's ears?! _Tentei mentally screamed.

"Yeah, it's a good one. Hey, why don't we all sit down in the shade instead of standing here in the sun?" Seiryuu suggested, and nodded to three lawn chairs under the tree. There were three so Ryuu would have somewhere to sit, but they'd work just fine for Tentei and Kisshouten too (Seiryuu would of course be taking his habitual spot).

Kisshouten followed him over to them, leaving Tentei to trail along, wondering how best to interrupt this conversation. He'd come over to talk to Kisshouten, not be the third wheel while she chatted with the black-haired half of the duo that was trying to seduce her. Should Tentei be blunt and drag her away? Should he lie and say he was running late, and had something important that he wanted to discuss privately? Or should he pick something Seiryuu said to be offended at, and thus be justified in ending the conversation?

He pondered this as he settled into the lawn chair farthest from Seiryuu, which unfortunately meant that Kisshouten was in the middle. Darn it, why hadn't he bitten the bullet and sat in the middle himself?

"Haku was just telling me he removed a tattoo the other day of the Aerosmith logo," Seiryuu was saying. "The guy was apparently like sixty years old and thought he'd had it long enough, and it was starting to look bad with his flabby arm. Then of course Haku launched into a diatribe about how bad tattoos are for your skin, and how expensive it is to get rid of them, then he admonished me to never get one unless I was prepared to have it until the day I die."

Hmm, Tentei had been right in his earlier assessment: Hakuryuu was the reasonable one, so he added that fact to his short list of the ways to tell the Waters brothers apart.

He endured chatting and talk of music for a full half-hour, long after Kisshouten and Seiryuu had both finished their drinks. _Why _did she insist on being friendly with this punk? _Why _didn't she turn and look at her poor old dad more often? _Why _didn't they switch the conversation to something that he knew about? And _why_ couldn't she pick up on his hints that he was getting antsy, in an amusing reversal from her childhood?

As Tentei fidgeted, Kisshouten was saying, "Did Tenou tell you that Reginald broke his arm the other day?"

"No way. How?"

"Simple, really," she sighed, as Tentei congratulated himself once again. "He was on a wet rock, slipped on it, and fell on his left arm. He didn't say where the break was, but I'm betting it was the lower arm, that's overwhelmingly the case. I just wonder, out of pure curiosity, if it was his ulna or radius."

"Either way has to suck," Seiryuu sighed in reply. "I broke both, just not at the same time. I broke my left ulna when I was nine thanks to tripping off the steps when they were icy, and my right radius when I was eighteen thanks to falling out of my buddy's tree. Both times, it was awful, and I cried like a little baby. Ron mocked me for that," he muttered, still upset about such a thing.

He went on, "But I feel like I should go over there and offer my condolences in person to Reginald. He's nice, and maybe I can impart some wisdom about living with a cast on your arm for six weeks."

Seiryuu, and Hakuryuu and Ryuu, liked Bishamonten more than Shashi. After all, Bishamonten was more accepting of the rock thing, and hadn't hated them pretty much from sight. True, when he'd first encountered (tipsy) Hakuryuu on Christmas Eve two years ago he'd thought the dermatologist was a total moron, but he'd quickly come around. Perhaps his influence was why Shashi no longer dreamed of calling the police on her neighbors, but even if not, Bishamonten was their pal. Their older, businesslike, elegant and somewhat uptight pal, but their pal nonetheless.

"You _should _go talk to him," Kisshouten urged Seiryuu. "He'd appreciate it. I've gotten him a card, but I think I'll go over and talk to him too. You can't have too many well-wishes, and – well, yes you actually can, but I don't think he'll mind if we do that."

"I bet Shashi had a fit, huh? Did she scream and get all hysterical?" Seiryuu asked, giving Tentei an enjoyable mental vision.

Kisshouten replied, "Tenou didn't say anything about that, but I have to imagine she was, while upset, able to stay calm. She's a doctor after all, so I'm willing to bet that she held herself together even though she was worried. And really, getting hysterical around an accident victim just gets them all upset too."

Seiryuu was about to respond, but just then the sprinkler came on, having been programmed to do so every so often due to the dryness of the summer so far. No, Kisshouten was not instantly soaked in a visual that would be appropriate on a promotional poster for a wet t-shirt contest; in fact the sprinkler merely wet Tentei's left shoe, as it was positioned closer to him than anyone else. But the research scientist turned red with anger, because surely this had been done on purpose!

Seiryuu immediately apologized, "Oh geez Tentei, I'm sorry! I forgot it was gonna do that. Don't worry, I'll go turn it off!" And with that he ran off to the spigot on the house, as Tentei stood up and took two stomped and very deliberate steps to the right, away from the water. For her part, Kisshouten looked like she was trying hard not to laugh, ungrateful child.

Unfortunately, in his haste Seiryuu had forgotten to avoid the hose, and just as he reached the rock garden, he stumbled over it. Tentei grinned at his enemy's fall, and gasped in horror as Kisshouten ran over and… and _helped the bastard sit up!_

"Are you okay?" she asked anxiously, her hands on his shoulders and her face worried. "Did you hit your head? Are you hurt?"

Tentei's overprotective and overactive imagination translated this as, "Can I kiss it better and let you take advantage of me? Here, I'll give you a healing massage. Then I'll put you to bed and wear a sexy nurse outfit so you can leer at me."

"Yeah, I'm okay," Seiryuu assured her, a sheepish tone to his voice. "You know me, I'm such a klutz. I didn't hit my head, to answer your question, but thanks for being concerned," he smiled, and she smiled back at him. Oh _no_, this might be construed as a "moment"!

Tentei made a decision then. This decision was: he was going to make another voodoo doll. No, scratch that, he was going to make _two _other voodoo dolls, to knock Hakuryuu out of the "wooing my daughter" ring as well. In fact, why stop there? It was time to punish Shashi too, for making this wooing happen. After all, if Kisshouten had been married surely they wouldn't be hitting on her, which was true.

"Oh, your hand's bleeding," Kisshouten said in concern as she pulled her friend up. "Did you scrape it on the rock?"

"I must have," Seiryuu sighed, as he inspected his scraped palm. "Ow. Hold on, lemme go get a Band-Aid."

Golden opportunity! Tentei summoned a concerned expression to his face and offered, "Let me help you with that. In fact, you need to clean it and put on some Neosporin, so it doesn't get infected. I'm good at patching up minor scrapes and cuts," he bragged, which was also true.

Pleased that her father's dislike of Seiryuu had been shoved aside by her friend's need, Kisshouten smiled, "Yes he is. I used to refuse to have my mother help me with scrapes, because he was so good with them. Do you want me to turn the sprinkler off while you go get that taken care of?"

"Nah," he replied, shaking his head. "We're all out of its spray pattern now, anyway."

"That we are," Tentei agreed, and followed him as he headed for the door. Gallantly he opened it for him, making Seiryuu give him a smile and a cheerful, "Thanks dude."

"Dude", was it? Tentei wasn't a "dude", he was a "sir" or "Dr. Okami", dammit. Why oh why did this generation think their elders were their friends, not their betters? When _he'd _been in his twenties, he'd never addressed anyone he didn't know very well by anything but "sir" or "ma'am". Heck, he'd called them "Mr. or Mrs. (or Miss) Whatever-Their-Last-Name-Was", unless they explicitly told him to call them by their first names. Yes, society was crumbling, and Seiryuu and his ilk were leading the way.

But he kept a smile on his face as Seiryuu led him into the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, "It's real nice of you to help me like this, Tentei. Putting bandages on your hands all by yourself lends itself to blunders."

The voodoo master assented, "Oh yes, it's quite difficult, isn't it? That's why I'm here to help."

Seiryuu opened a cupboard and took out Band-Aids and ointment, but how would Tentei get blood from those? Aha, he could say, with total honesty–

"You need hydrogen peroxide. To clean the wound, you know," he helpfully informed his patient, and Seiryuu smacked his forehead and chuckled, "Yeah, I do. My bad. Ah, here it is!"

He set that iconic, tall brown bottle down on the counter, and proceeded to grab cotton balls as well. All the while more and more blood had been welling from the scrape; not a lot by any means, but more than before. Good, Tentei would be able to procure a sample for the doll. Now, how was he to get part of Hakuryuu's body? Well, maybe he could yank a hair out or something.

No sooner had he thought that than Seiryuu frowned at the counter and muttered, "Oh ew, Hakuryuu forgot a nail clipping. Into the trash it goes!"

"Oh, I'm closer, let me do it," Tentei quickly replied, and before Seiryuu could respond he'd swept this Hakuryuu sample into his hand and pretended to throw it into the trash bin, while in reality keeping it between his fingers. Seiryuu, a bit weirded out that he'd done that, nevertheless shrugged and let it go, not noticing Tentei putting the thing into his pocket. One down, one to go!

"Now, you just let me open all these supplies, and sit down over here," he smiled, as Seiryuu washed his hands.

After imitating him, Tentei unscrewed the peroxide bottle, selected a cotton ball, cleaned off the blood, set the cotton ball on the counter, applied some ointment, and stuck on one of those special hand Band-Aids, the kind designed to stay on the palm easier than the rest. It was a masterful job of minor first aid, and Seiryuu smiled, "Thanks, Tentei. Like I said, it would've been a lot harder without you."

"Oh my God, what's that?" Tentei nearly yelped, pointing out the window behind him. As Seiryuu whipped around, Tentei added the bloody cotton ball to his pants pocket as well, score.

"What's what? I don't see anything."

"It was some sort of raptor," Tentei lied, pouring on the excited tone of voice. "One I've never seen before. It flew right past the window! Do you get a lot of them out here?" he asked casually, guffawing inside his head.

"Oh, some. You know, that's one reason Kisshouten stays with Puffball at all times outside, and if she sees one in the sky she takes him in," Seiryuu seriously replied. "Nobody wants that poor guinea pig to end up as hawk food."

Well, at least the guy liked animals, Tentei thought as they cleaned up the supplies. But it still wasn't enough to make him acceptable, nor was Hakuryuu's offer of brownies a few minutes later enough to pull the plug on the Hakuryuu voodoo doll. Tentei did _force _himself to take a brownie, _forced _himself to eat the delicious thing, and _forced _himself to accept another one. Really! All because he had to to allay their suspicions, not because he wanted to.

Finally he and Kisshouten were able to go back to her house, but soon found that he was too distracted to really talk. But oh well, this just meant he'd be able to plan his acquisition of a part of Shashi's body sooner! He bid his daughter adieu, and on the drive home, wondered what the best way to go about it would be. It was very unlikely that Shashi would let him patch her up, so maybe… maybe her garbage, he could probably find a long nail clipping or some hair.

Yes, he would soon have _four _voodoo dolls, and–

Actually, why didn't he make one of Phil Baumgartner from work too? Phil was one of those boot-licking suck-ups who cared more about a promotion and fame than the research, which was aimed at helping humanity with eradicating cancer. Some days prior to Phil Tentei had felt like he was swimming against a tide of ass-kissing glory hounds, but Phil took the cake. Well, when he was gone Tentei would be so much better off, and it wasn't like the man was a brilliant researcher by far.

And so Tentei hatched his plan. He would wait until it was dark, tell Megan he was going to the bookstore, drive over to Shashi's house, park far away so Kisshouten wouldn't recognize his car, rifle through Shashi's garbage bins, put his sample in a bag, and then go the bookstore so he wouldn't come home empty-handed and make his wife suspicious. Wasn't he so _clever?_

As Megan served him some beef at dinner, he thought to himself, _Some people might say I'm being evil here, but I'm not! I'm being __good__, protecting and avenging my daughter. Sometimes we have to do harsh things to save the people we love, and I'm not __killing__ anyone at all!_

"Tentei honey," Megan asked suspiciously, "why are you smiling like that? It's unnerving."

Whoops, think up a lie! He came up with a casual, "Oh Megan, I'm sorry. I was just thinking of this book I want to get. Apparently it's a humorous murder mystery where the murderer is the narrator, and the antagonist is the plucky sleuth who has it coming so much. Bonnie from work recommended it, and actually, I want to go get it tonight."

"Oh, that sounds funny! May I read it when you're done?" she asked eagerly; she adored murder mysteries, and Kisshouten had inherited that.

"Sure you can," he agreed, vowing to find such a thing and buy it. If Barnes and Commoner didn't have it, he could just say they were out, then research books with that plot and buy one, because surely there had to be some like that. After all, there were so very many mystery books around these days, and more were always being written.

Once dinner was done and cleared away, he gathered his supplies. He armed himself with gloves, because going through garbage with your bare hands was just asking for trouble. In fact, he took along three pairs of gloves just to be extra, extra safe, and a garbage bag just for their disposal. He also took a smaller plastic bag for Shashi bits, one that he had labeled appropriately. Yep, Tentei Akihito Okami was all set for his mission.

"Bye honey!" he called over his shoulder as he left, having deliberately taken the long way to the back door to avoid Megan, who was reading in the living room.

"Bye dear!" she called back, completely unaware of what he was up to and what he was carrying with him.

Once in his car, he turned up the famous "O Fortuna" chorus of Carl Orff's "Carmina Burana" on the stereo, as performed by the Westminster Abbey Choir. Ha! "O Fortuna" was a dramatic setting to music of a medieval poem about the fickleness of fortune, and was often viewed as having a diabolical slant (it really didn't). Well, that was appropriate for Shashi and Bishamonten, who were surely headed to Hell despite their supposedly charmed lives.

Had he been a little more self-aware, Tentei would have realized that he was setting himself up to check in there too, if such a thing even existed, which was doubtful. As it was, he hummed along to this most marvelous piece, and thought, _Who says Classical music is boring?_

He pulled up a full block away from Shashi's house, nodded at a passing jogger who gave him a weird look as if nothing was odd about his gloves and bags, and strolled down the alley. Shashi and Bishamonten's house was the second from the corner on the next block, and he would have no trouble finding their garbage. And luckily for him, tomorrow was the day it got picked up, so he had lots of material to work with.

He lifted off the lid and began to meticulously sift through it, like a bum wearing tailored pants and a nice shirt. Hmm, plastic wrap, plastic wrap, worn-out guitar pick, burned-out light bulb, plastic wrap, big bag of something or other (old litter from Tenma's cage), jewelry tag (_pricy _jewelry, yikes), broken pen, torn lacy panties (what had those two been up to?!), and – YES!

Here was a clump of dark brown hair, undoubtedly from a brush. As Kisshouten had mentioned that Tenou was a redhead, this had to be Shashi's hair. Tentei had been nearly certain that she'd be a blonde, probably a bleached blonde, but apparently he'd been wrong. Well, at least he knew this wasn't Tenou's hair. He'd feel a little guilty voodoo-izing someone he knew almost nothing about.

Ah, but _Shashi_… he knew all about her. She was a CEO-seducing, secret-keeping, husband-stealing awful person, who liked expensive things and living with men before marriage, in the '90s if not the 2010s. She had tempted Bishamonten with her promiscuous wiles, and while he was certainly at fault too, if she'd never come back Tentei would still have his son-in-law.

So he put the entire clump of hair into the bag labeled "Hussy", nodded firmly to himself, replaced the garbage and garbage lid, and strolled on back to his car. Phase One was complete! Now to construct three more little effigies, alongside Phil because he could, and it would be easy to get a sample from him. Once he had them all, it was only a matter of time until retribution was visited upon them.

_God job, Tentei old sport, _he thought to himself as he started his car, humming a vaguely voodoo-sounding tune. _You win the Best Father Award for 2014._

.

A week later, as Megan was off at a meeting of the library board, Tentei beamed and put five little effigies side by side on his desk to admire his handiwork. He should go into business with this, because they were all so good. Their hair was as close as he could get it, those with long lashes had had them drawn on, and where applicable, tiny headbands had been added. Yes, it was like plushie-making on a smaller scale, with malicious intent.

He cast a proud eye over his little community of voodoo dolls. Mini-Bishamonten was looking pretty battered, mini-Phil was missing a leg, mini-Shashi had a rip down her abdomen, but mini-Hakuryuu and mini-Seiryuu still seemed in pretty good shape, save for the fact that almost all of their hair had been yanked out. Ha!

Yes, he'd found the way to mete out justice if the universe wouldn't do so. So of course it was taking a while, but it worked, he had evidence! Soon Bishamonten would be a eunuch, Shashi would be made to pay for stealing Kisshouten's husband with some sort of internal injury, Phil would break his leg and have to retire, and Hakuryuu and Seiryuu would be bald and also eunuchs.

Tentei thought of the dermatologist and the computer programmer as a unit, and in fact could only keep them straight by the color of their hair. Completely ignoring their different personalities, interests, and even speech patterns, he had zeroed in on the fact that they had designs on his daughter. Personalities and speech patterns didn't matter at all, in the face of such evil.

He was such a good person, Tentei told himself with complete conviction. Avenging his daughter, making sure that those who hurt or threatened her were going to pay. He was undoubtedly a–

_Ding-dong!_

Now who could that be? He frowned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him in case it was Megan, who had forgotten something and might happen to glance inside the study to see what he'd done. She'd go off on him, yelling about holding grudges and mean actions, and make him get rid of all the dolls. She didn't understand, at all.

He crossed to the door, wondering if this was yet another solicitor, and opened it with a studiously neutral expression on his face. Glaring at people you didn't know just wasn't _nice_, he thought with no hint of irony.

A beautiful woman with brown eyes and dark brown hair was standing on his front steps, her hand on the shoulder of a handsome young man with green eyes and red hair. They were both smiling, and the young man said, "Hello, Mr. Okami. My name's Tenou Prince-Bishamonten, and this is my mother, Shashi."

Tentei was stunned into silence. He'd pictured an overly made-up, fake-boobed, trashy mess who would scream, "Y'all don' know me! Ah married Reg'nald 'cause he's rich, and now Ah'll never have to work a day in mah life anymo'. Ah plan on poisonin' that guinea pig too, t'make Kisshouten cry."

And the son… not what he'd expected at all. In fact, he had envisioned Tenou as an obese, pimply-faced, greasy-haired gamer, who would insult him with words that might well stop his heart, and whine, "My pa says you're a (censored-censored-censored) jerk! And Kisshouten's a (censored) (female dog), and I'm never moving out on my own!"

Having picked up on Tentei's stunned silence, Shashi tried to smooth it over with a kind, "I'm sure this is awkward, Mr. Okami, but Kisshouten suggested we meet with you and talk a little. We feel bad that you're still so upset, and we want you to know that we really do like Kisshouten. Very much so."

Politeness took over, and he stepped back with a somewhat embarrassed, "Please, come in."

Bishamonten's son and wife entered his ex-father-in-law's house, still smiling and apparently not in a confrontational mood at all. Had Kisshouten really asked them to come? Probably yes, that was how she was. Heck, maybe she'd even mentioned it last week when Tentei had been so distracted, it was certainly possible. Well, now that they were here, he'd been thrown for a loop by their complete lack of aggression, and thus took refuge in the comforting ritual of receiving guests.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked somewhat warily. "Plum tea? A soda? Some water, perhaps?"

"Oh, no thank you," Shashi replied, sitting down on the couch he'd ushered her to. "Unless of course you'd like some, but I don't want to make work for you," she said gaily, piling on the "good-natured guest" act. All part of the plan!

"I see. Well, I'm all right. So, Tenou and Shashi, what can I do for you?" he queried, seating himself in Megan's armchair across from the couch. He was really, _really _hoping they hadn't somehow gotten wind of the voodoo dolls, but if they had, well, he would be given the chance to air his grievances in response to their condemnation.

Shashi replied, "Well, we came to explain a few things. We're aware that you're still very upset, and justifiably so! All I ask is that you hear me out without interrupting, and then we can have a real discussion. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," Tentei replied a bit cautiously. But hey, all he had to do was not talk and listen, which meant he could _think _whatever he wanted and mentally compose a good reply to whatever she said.

"Wonderful. You know, Tentei, Reginald and I were so very, very in love from 1991 to 1993. But I have the fault of being too impetuous sometimes, and one day, I made a colossal mistake. He was at a deli with an old girlfriend who I didn't know was a lesbian, and with horrible timing, I walked right in that door as she hugged him and kissed his cheek! Stupidly, I didn't stay to see his reaction, just ran out the door and back to the house, where I packed my bags while crying and calling him nasty names in my head," she sighed, still mad at herself for that.

Tentei obediently let her go on, "Now, had I stayed even a minute longer, I would have seen him tell her not to do that. Had I stayed five minutes longer, I would have heard him discussing with her how he was planning on asking me to marry him. As it was, I called him from the airport and left a message on the answering machine that I was off to New York to break into Broadway. I used to be an actress," she explained with a proud grin.

"He frantically tried to find me, but even when he tracked me to my hotel, I hid from him, convinced that I would be weak and go back to a cheater if we talked face-to-face. I refused to listen to any of his messages on my phone, for the same reason. And only a week later, I found out that I was pregnant with Tenou!"

With that she patted her son's arm, and as he smiled back at her Tentei couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of sympathy for that young actress all alone in New York, with a baby on the way.

Shashi elaborated, "I mean, I had no one I knew there. I was living off my savings, and I was indescribably lucky that I found a theater that would hire me as an unknown, and keep me on even when I started showing.

"Now, I know what you're thinking: didn't Reginald deserve to know he was going to be a father? And the answer is yes, of course he did, and that's another huge regret of mine, that I didn't call him and tell him the news. If I had, he would have explained it all, and I could have gone back to Philadelphia and we would have been a happy family. You know how he always wanted to be a father.

"As it was, I was so furious at him that I vowed to do it all alone. But I still loved him, which is why I kept Tenou, to have a part of Reginald with me always. His name is on the birth certificate, but whenever Tenou asked who his daddy was I told him, 'I'll tell you when you're older,' mostly because it still hurt so much. My poor son had no idea who his father is, which must have been so hard," she sighed, and Tenou nodded fervently.

Tentei's sympathy meter had dropped at the fact that Shashi had hidden her son's paternity from him, but it rose again as she went on, "I missed Reginald every day. I never dated, not until I moved to Zenmi three years ago and met this man who I _thought _would make a good father for Tenou. Yes, I was a fool to think that about Arthur Taishakuten," she growled, and Tentei couldn't stop himself from nodding in agreement.

"The man was only dating me for cover! He's since come out of the closet, but at the time I had no idea that he was gay. Anyway, Arthur invited me to meet his Senior Vice Presidents one day, and I walked in… and there was Reginald! Just as handsome and elegant as before, except one important thing had changed: he had a wedding band on his finger," she nearly intoned, and Tentei waited with bated breath for what would come next.

It was, "I was terrified, and didn't know what to do. But then he told me that he loved Kisshouten so much, and I made the decision that I couldn't ruin that for him, and her too. I wanted him to be happy, because I loved _him_ so much, and I thought I would never be able to tell him that.

"I tried so, so hard to ignore my feelings, and so did he. We avoided interacting whenever possible, but each time I kissed Arthur, I thought to myself how much better it was with Reginald. Each time I saw Reginald, I wanted to throw myself into his arms. It was torture, Tentei, pure torture!" she proclaimed, sniffling a little bit (fake sniffling, but it worked).

"And finally our resolve broke at a party. We were about to kiss when Xavier Koumokuten came in the room and interrupted us, and I was both thankful and furious. So was Reginald, and when Kisshouten came back, he made the decision to stay with her, and – well Tenou, you tell him the next part," she encouraged, and Tenou took up the narrative.

"One day, we went out for cider, because we were really good friends and we'd made a habit of doing that," he told Tentei, who was now unsure what to think. "And I showed him the class ring he'd given my mother years ago, which I didn't know was his. He recognized it though, and suddenly he knew I was his son, since I'd told him it was my father's. He panicked, and ran away, and then I figured it out when I came home.

"Mother confessed it all, and we basically cried and got mad at each other. Meanwhile, Dad couldn't bring himself to tell Kisshouten what was going on, because he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Obviously, that was cowardly of him," Tenou admitted.

Shashi took charge of the conversation now, with a fervent, "And when she found out, who could blame her for being so angry? I can't, not at all. I would have done the same thing, filing for divorce if my husband had lied to me like that. He felt like scum, and I felt like scum, and Tenou just felt unwanted. I want to take this opportunity to apologize for what I did, lying to everyone like that and creating this whole mess.

"But Fate works in mysterious ways. Reginald and I longed for each other, and finally, on Christmas Eve, he decided that he could no longer deny that he loved me. He showed up at my doorstep, through a blizzard no less. We explained it all, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out he hadn't cheated on me in 1994 at all," Shashi smiled, leaving out the sex on the couch part.

"Tentei, do you have any idea how hard my life was, how hard Tenou's life was? I died a little more inside each time I saw Reginald and thought I could never tell him the truth, both about Tenou and my feelings. I'm not proud of what Reginald and I did to Kisshouten, and if I could go back, I would have been honest from the get-go, back in 1994.

"But we can't change the past, and Kisshouten has told me, with total honesty, that she forgives us. She can see the good in everyone, and did I mention that I commissioned one of her paintings? She's my friend, and I'm lucky she is," she concluded with a brilliant smile.

Tentei now felt absolutely _awful _that he'd made a voodoo doll of this woman, and Bishamonten too. Yup, Shashi was a charmer, and he rued the day he'd cut off mini-Bishamonten's arm and taken a pocketknife to mini-Shashi's abdomen. What kind of horrible monster was he, trying to cause pain to such misunderstood people? He made the solemn vow, right then and there, that he would destroy each and every doll for good measure, in a safe way.

He took a deep breath and told her, "Shashi, _I _forgive you too. No one ever told me the whole story, so naturally I jumped to conclusions. But if Kisshouten can accept what you did and be your friend, I can forgive you your actions, which you've made clear you would never do again."

Score! Shashi had triumphed once again. She honestly _was _sorry, but she'd upped the melodrama and "poor me" sentiments to ensure that Tentei would change his tune. Ah, manipulation… she had a quintuple black belt in it.

For good measure, she said brightly, "I'm pleased as punch that Kisshouten lives near us, you have no idea. The neighborhood is lucky to have her, and we all love her. I mean, she's such a pleasant contrast to bitter old Mrs. Gregerson on the left from us, or the Coolidge family across the street with their obnoxious teenage triplets, or the incredibly annoying pair of–"

"So no doubt you hate those Waters boys too," Tentei said jovially, certain of an answer in the affirmative. Surely the entire neighborhood wanted to run them out of town on a rail, and forcibly cut their hair.

And indeed, Shashi sighed, "Oh yes. They're just so… odd. I think, Tentei, that they have designs on–"

"I like them," Tenou interrupted, making Tentei stare in shock. "They're nice, and they're my friends, and Mother, they are _not _incestuous gay lovers! Hakuryuu used to date a model, and Seiryuu had to run off and throw up when he found out you thought that about them. And Nathan burst out laughing, and Hakuryuu started to get mad."

"I know they're not incestuous gay lovers," Shashi sniffed, as if she'd never suspected that at all. "One look at the way they hang around poor Kisshouten makes that clear, Tenou honey."

Aha, Tentei had made an ally here!

"Shashi, you're so right," he agreed, rolling his eyes heavenwards for patience. "And she has no idea! She thinks they're just trying to be nice, and doesn't know that they're looking at her, um… mammarian appendages."

Shashi was about to say, "What are you talking about? She's lapping up all the attention! She keeps going over there to borrow CDs, and I have a running bet with Reginald when she'll stay the night for a ménage a trois of headbanded debauchery! Your daughter's turned into a freak, Tentei, deal with it." But she bit that reply down and sighed, "They are, um, just _so _enthusiastic about showing off around her, aren't they? I think they need a life."

"They have lives," Tenou insisted, stubbornly stamping down a vision of a lingerie-clad Kisshouten grinning between two shirtless younger men, both of which had a hand on her thigh. "Hakuryuu's a dermatology resident, Seiryuu's a computer programmer, and they play in a band! Not to mention they spend a lot of time with Nathan, and me, and their cats."

"Who is this Nathan?" Tentei asked suspiciously, preparing himself for an answer of, "Their other brother, who also digs Kisshouten."

"Their cousin," Shashi said flatly, "and he's just as stupid and immature as they are. He also wrecks people's property on a regular basis, and keeps creepy lizards as pets. And tried to get Tenou into animated porn!"

"Mother! None of that is true!" Tenou snapped, and then explained, "He once _accidentally _ran over _four _of her pansies, and never did it again. And he loves his iguanas, who love him back because he takes great care of them. And 'Final Fantasy X' is a video game, not porn! If you think it's porn, Mother, you haven't seen half of what Japan produces."

"That… that Frou-Frou woman's dress looks like it's held up by magic!" Shashi snapped back, completely forgetting Tentei. "And then once you beat a monster with her, she leans forward and it's Cleavage City! It's sick, Tenou, sick. And I'll have your father have a talk with you if you defend it again!"

It didn't matter that Shashi wore corset-type lingerie all the time in private, and had made a habit of visiting actual porn sites before her engagement to Bishamonten. It also didn't matter that Tenou was over eighteen anyway, and that drooling over a (non-nude) CG babe was better than going out and fooling around with a girl. Nope, "FFX" was the Devil, and Lulu was its High Priestess of Darkness.

Tentei, impressed with Shashi's standards, offered the plum tea again and wouldn't take "no" for an answer. So as it brewed, he told them all about Kisshouten's childhood, sharing some embarrassing stories she would have gotten red in the face at. From the time she'd picked her goldfish out of the tank and played tea party with him to the time she'd tried to bleach her hair and turned it green, all of these memories were revealed.

Shashi in turn proceeded to embarrass Tenou with tales of his misadventures as well. There was the time he'd toddled over to an injured squirrel and picked it up to "save skirl!", and soon gotten the first of three rabies shots after it had bitten him. There was the time he'd tried to imitate Evil Knievel and jump a car with his bike, and been stopped just in time by his mother. There was the time he'd accidentally stabbed a fencing partner in the crotch, and the time he'd forgotten his lines in his school play and run offstage crying, etc., etc.

Funny how parents thought sharing such embarrassments was okay, but if you were to tell anyone about the time they'd gotten smashed at a PTA dinner and started singing "My Heart Will Go On" on the table, they'd give you a dirty look, Tenou thought grumpily. In revenge, he vowed to ask Kisshouten what stupid things Tentei had done, and tell her all about Shashi's Celine Dion impression, which had made the football coach cheer and shout encouragement. Tenou hadn't been there but he'd heard all about it; if he'd been there, he would've wondered why she'd been sniffling, "It _will _go on, Reginald," once the principal and the chemistry teacher had pulled her down.

But Shashi had made a friend here, a friend who waved and called, "We should do this again!" as she and Tenou left. And the minute he'd closed the door Tentei raced for the garage, off to check out his voodoo book from the library again and see how one could legitimately destroy voodoo dolls. There was no time to waste.

Unfortunately, he saw as he opened it at home half an hour later, Practical Voodoo for the Modern Age had no guidance whatsoever on how to end a doll's power in a non-harmful way. Curses, foiled again!

He thought for a moment. It was still entirely possible that Bishamonten's arm breaking had been a coincidence. He'd been so wrapped up in trying to punish him that maybe he'd seized on this occurrence and ignored all evidence to the contrary, which was pretty poor for a scientist. Was he just as bad as those idiots who denied the varied mountains of evidence for evolution, clinging to their single source of an ancient holy book that contradicted such empirical proof?

He was, he realized with shame. But he couldn't completely shake the idea that he might have contributed to Bishamonten's pain, so the thing to do was – the thing to do was hide the dolls in a safe place, under lock and key, and never do anything with them again.

So he went down to the basement and found the old cat carrier that hadn't been used in twenty years, the one that had been hard to get open then and would be nearly impossible now. He tried it, and yes, it was rusted shut. Good! So he proceeded to meticulously unscrew the top from the bottom, place all five dolls inside it when it had been separated, and meticulously screw it back on again. They'd be safe here, he thought as he took the carrier up to the attic and hid it behind a chest of drawers.

_Tentei Akihito, _he thought as he put the ladder away, _you have atoned for your sins. Never again shall I do something that mean-spirited, so help me God. In fact, if I ever–_

"TENTEI!" Megan's shocked and horrified voice came from downstairs. "What's this book I just found at your desk?! Are you practicing _voodoo?!_"

Uh…oh.

He made himself walk down there as normally as he could, calling back, "Megan, it's not what it looks like! Really, just let me explain please, dear."

As he came into the study, she was holding the book in both hands and tapping her right foot, looking pretty darn offended. Apparently either the library board meeting had gotten out early, or he'd been having so much fun talking to Shashi that time had flown by, and it was later than he'd thought. Either way, Megan was here now and had discovered his deep dark secret, and he was in for a lecture if he didn't come up with a good story.

But he got an idea, and as she drew breath to demand he tell her what was going on, he cut her off with, "Megan darling, that book caught my eye for its humor value! I mean, voodoo? Really? In this day and age, in this country? Tell me it's not funny that the author seriously believes it's real, and says things like, 'The gods demand a sacrifice of cockerel blood, but if a live chicken isn't available, go down to your local KFC and order a fried one, then burn it as an offering.'"

He'd said this with a grin on his face, like anyone who took that book seriously was a moronic twit. He'd also used a silly voice for the author, "Mother Henrietta", who was a white woman from Connecticut.

And Megan bought it. First she smirked, then she snickered, then she guffawed. He joined in, and finally she calmed down enough to say, "Oh honey, I can see why you think it's so funny! Maybe we can curl up on the couch and read it together, and have more good laughs."

And that was just what they did. Tentei read it aloud, using a super-serious voice until he couldn't hold his laughter in, and things were good. Mini-Shashi and her companions were safe, and this book _was _pretty hilarious.

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The next day, with her father's change of heart on voodoo having gone right over her head, Kisshouten did not go into the studio, but she did work. Yes, she had decided that it was high time she painted a portrait of Puffball, since he would only live four years longer at most, and he was such an important part of her life. So she set up a sheet on the floor, set the cage she usually used on the lawn around it, and put him inside. She settled in next to him with her sketchbook and pencils, and proceeded to make some studies.

At first, he ate the parsley she'd placed in front of him, although she had to turn him around so she could see his face. Rear views were fine to start with, but he wouldn't be facing away from the viewer in the painting. After that he moved around sniffing for more food, and she dashed off some rough poses, very sketchy and simple but they were still important. After _that_, he plopped down on his side to listen to the sounds of Chicago's "You're the Inspiration", which was softly playing on a loop and was courtesy of Hakuryuu and Seiryuu.

Ah, excellent. Stillness was good, to get the whorl patterns down. And wow, it was hard to get them right, especially with a black guinea pig. Still, she'd sketched him before, so she was making pretty good progress.

_Oh Puffball, _she thought as she added shine to his eye, _you do bring feeling to my life, and no one needs you more than I need you. If I hadn't had you when I got divorced, I would have been incredibly depressed. One of the best things Reginald ever did for me was give me you._

"You're my little sweetie, aren't you?" she asked him, and he jerked his head up at her voice.

Hey, Mommy had put a pencil down next to her, and _his chew sticks were shaped like pencils_. Big, thick, short pencils, but pencils nonetheless, and guinea pigs always checked things out with their mouths. After all, their sight was peripheral so they couldn't see things in front of them very well. Yes smell and the the sense of touch from their whiskers were important, but to really explore something, they licked or nibbled it.

So Puffball went over there, and started to enthusiastically chew on Kisshouten's expensive art supply before she knew what he was doing. She quickly realized what he was up to though, and snatched it out of his mouth as she scolded, "NO! No, we don't eat that, sweetheart, it's bad for you!"

Luckily he hadn't reached the graphite, just taken a chunk out of the wood. Great. Well, at least it wasn't painted, since it was one of those eco-friendly pencils made from non-rainforest wood, with no dyes and such. He chewed it happily, since this wood tasted better than his chew sticks! It was salty from Mommy's hands, score.

Kisshouten then went and got her camera, to take as many pictures from as many angles as she could. Unfortunately he kept turning to face her, which at all other times was adorable but was rather frustrating now. She needed more side views, but he would have none of of it. He wanted to be by his human, so eventually she gave up and set the camera down. With a happy burbling noise he hopped into her lap, and it was snuggle time.

Oh, weren't pets just the best beings in the universe? Well, until they tried to mount and bite poor Tenma and had to be pulled off before the other boar was traumatized, she thought with a sigh. Tenma was a shy piggy who'd apparently never been in with other males, but Puffball had at the pet store he'd been first bought from, so he knew how to show dominance. Luckily Tenou had been there to calm Tenma down, and he and Kisshouten had decided that nope, there would be no more guinea pig get-togethers, oh well.

But away from potential rivals, Puffball was a blessing. And again with the exception of potential rivals, he liked everybody. He liked Tenou, he liked Shashi, he liked Bishamonten, he liked Kendappa, he liked Souma (who had often come over because she and Kisshouten were pals), he liked Kujaku, he liked Yasha, he liked Ryuu, and he _really _liked Seiryuu and Hakuryuu.

Which just went to show that they were quality potential mates, right? After all, pets often hated people who didn't have their owners' best interests at heart, this had been proven multiple times all over the globe. Heck, one of the women's sites had, on its list of "Bad signs in a new partner", "If your pet doesn't like him for no apparent reason". Kisshouten knew this only because a friend of hers had told her, but it was still true.

But Puffball liked Hakuryuu. Puffball liked Seiryuu. And they liked him, and they obviously liked Kisshouten a lot too. This was honestly rather thrilling, for a couple of reasons. One: she'd never had two people interested in her at the same time before, and Two: she'd never had younger men interested in her before, that she knew of anyway.

Actually, a number of younger men had thought she was hot, but the closest any of them had ever come to telling her that had been an intern who'd nervously tried, "My friends and I are going out to a bar. D'you, uh, wanna come with?"

She hadn't accepted, since she'd never really been too into bars anyway, and that had been that. Danny Derkins had had to go home and call himself nasty names in his head for blowing his chance, but he'd gotten over it pretty quickly. A year later he'd finished his internship and they'd parted on good terms, with Kisshouten still ignorant that he'd been gaga for her.

Ah, but her _neighbors'_ interest was plain to see. And one of the most charming and frankly attractive things was the way they weren't turning on each other over it. Wasn't that mature? It was sexy, actually, she decided right then and there.

Kisshouten then had a lovely flash of female-dominated perversion, she had that right. Being an elegant, classy woman didn't mean you didn't have inappropriate thoughts, and if men could fantasize about harems, she could fantasize about a _pair _of men. Sexy men. Sexy men who appreciated really long hair, and liked to wander around in fanservice mode.

"Kisshouten,"Hakuryuu would smile, "what would you say to a private dip in your hot tub, just the three of us?"

"I know what _I'd_ say to that,"Seiryuu would grin. _"_I'd say, 'Let's bring out some wine coolers as well,' and if you so happen to come on to me, I'll be more than happy to cater to you."

"So would I! You've been divorced for a while and spent many a night alone, so I think it's time we show you what we can do for you,"Hakuryuu would say firmly, as Seiryuu would nod. And then, they'd both flip their hair enticingly, rip their shirts open, lean in, and–

_Ding-dong!_

Oh, there went that doorbell again, shattering that fantasy. Oh well, it probably wouldn't have translated to reality anyway; what were the odds that they'd be okay doing such things with their brother? Not high at all, and she suddenly felt a little guilty that she'd imagined they would. But at least no one besides her would ever have to know, because she'd certainly never tell them, "Guess what? I imagined the three of us necking in the hot tub, and all that might lead to."

"Bad Kisshouten," she muttered to Puffball, as she set him down and stood up to go answer the door. "Your mommy is a pervert, it seems."

"Awheek! Wheek! Wheek!" he shrieked, excited that somebody had come to visit and having no concept of what "pervert" meant.

His mommy walked over to the door, the little devil on her shoulder purring, "Hey, maybe they came over with some wine again," and the little angel on the other one snapping, "No, it's probably UPS with the new pastels we ordered." But both were wrong, as it was not Hakuryuu, Seiryuu, or a UPS deliveryperson on her doorstep, but a smiling Nina Souma, clad in black short-shorts, tank top, and expensive tennis shoes, and carrying a thick book (Kunoichi Through the Ages: An Exhaustively Researched Tome by Satsuki Igarashi).

Well, this was good too! Kisshouten liked Souma an awful, awful lot, and they'd had many lovely conversations on how much of a sociopathic douche-bag Taishakuten was. Souma had most definitely sided with Kisshouten for the divorce, but seemed relieved that things had worked out between her and her ex-husband.

"Hey there," Souma greeted cheerfully. "I finished the book you wanted to borrow, so I brought it over before I forgot. I – hello Nathan!" she called over her shoulder, and Ryuu called back, "Hey Nina!"

"How do you know Nathan?" Kisshouten asked as Souma stepped inside. "Did Reginald introduce you?"

"I met him and his cousins at Reginald and Shashi's wedding, and we hit it off," Souma explained matter-of-factly. "He's fun. He seems impressed by my kung fu abilities, which I've shown off for him a couple times, just patterns though. In turn, I like his drumming abilities, which he showed me once. Aw, hi Puffball!" she cooed, catching sight of the Abyssinian on his hind legs against the enclosure, trying to get some attention.

"I think he wants you to pick him up," Kisshouten smiled as she followed Souma over to him. "Here, set the book down on the table, thank you for bringing it over."

Souma smiled, "Not a problem," as she picked the happy piggy up. She went on, "It's good to learn about strong women, since the patriarchy keeps trying to say that all we're good for and meant to do is be mothers, wives, and sources of sexual pleasure. Books like this let us know the unsung stories of women who did it their way, whether mothers and wives or not, and I wish they'd teach feminism in elementary and high schools instead of just colleges."

"So true," Kisshouten sighed as they sat down across from each other, Puffball blending into Souma's lap. "And not all colleges, either. But Nina, why aren't you at work?"

"I took today off," Souma said proudly. "I'd been working overtime for months, and finally Taishakuten said I could have today free, a month ago. You know him, even if you had a family member's funeral he wouldn't let you off work if you hadn't arranged for it far in advance," she sighed, envisioning hurling a ninja weapon shaped like a crescent moon into her boss's forehead.

Kisshouten muttered, "Oh, I know very well what he's capable of. It's one of the most wonderful things in the world that I no longer have to pretend to like him. Nina, you _have _to find a way to escape him before it's too late."

"I will," Souma promised her, as she scratched Puffball behind the ears. "I won't end my career being that man's office slave, believe you me. You know, Kisshouten, I think I'd work much better as _Kendappa's _assistant, since her current assistant Zachary seems to be annoying her and I know she respects my abilities."

Aware of her friend's lesbianism, Kisshouten smiled chummily and coaxed, "And might you, in fact, be hoping for something along the lines of Ellen and Aaron? Maybe not in the skyscraper, I don't know how they didn't get fired for that, but a similar love affair? Oh, don't look so surprised," she sighed as Souma's mouth moved but no sound came out. "I know how much you like her, and she's quite a lovely person both inside and out."

Flushing very fetchingly, Souma mumbled, "And here I thought I was so good at hiding it. Well, yes, but you see, I have no idea what she would do if I confessed to her. For all I know she has a steady boyfriend, since we haven't had much chance to really talk yet."

And so Kisshouten grilled Souma on her feelings for Kendappa, and had to hope that soon she'd be able to grill Kendappa and come up with similar answers. Wouldn't it be nice if it all worked out? It would be good for Souma and probably good for Kendappa, and heck, it would be good for Kisshouten too, having her friends be happy.

Just as she thought that, Puffball was fidgeting and making distressed little noises, and Kisshouten belatedly realized that he hadn't had a chance to go potty for a while. She hastily warned Souma, "Put him back or he'll have an accident on you. Their little bladders can only hold so much for so long."

Moving so quickly Kisshouten was surprised, Souma had deposited the grateful Puffball back in his cage and was sighing, "That's the downside of 'pocket pets'. I should be going soon, anyway."

"Thank you again for bringing the book over," Kisshouten smiled as she saw her to the door. "And remember, if you never confess, you'll never be with her for sure."

"Easy for you to say, but yes, I know that. Well, bye!" Souma farewelled, then turned back with a grin and added, "By the way, your neighbors… I think they have a definite thing for you. If I liked men, I'd be jealous. But as it is, you won't be hurting for attention, that's for sure!"

And with that she was off, leaving to Kisshouten to close the door and wonder if _everybody _had picked up on that. Shashi probably had, same with Bishamonten, Tenou too, and Ryuu, and undoubtedly Tentei, given the way he hated her would-be swains. Yet Souma was the first one to say it to her face, and in a way that was refreshing. Probably only because she hadn't been judgmental, but still.

"Puffball," Kisshouten said to him as he drank some water, "your mommy never expected to be in this situation. And she's selfish, because she likes all the attention and doesn't want to choose. Then again, that would hurt somebody's feelings, and that's the last thing she wants to do. But one really isn't allowed to have two serious romantic interests at the same time. It's been done, but it's frowned upon by decent society."

He didn't reply, but of course she hadn't expected him too. Nope, she was just thinking aloud about this dilemma. Well, she decided, she'd just flip a coin.

Eventually, that was.

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(AN: Since Tentei had very little time spent on him in the manga, and as that whole incest thing was full of plotholes [how did nobody notice a royal baby with three "demon" eyes?] and ignored here, I had quite a bit of room to play around with his personality. I dunno, I have fun with him here: he's one of those kindly, out-of-touch older gents, but when you hurt his kid, the gloves come off and you're startled to realize that he punches pretty hard. Akihito, as I hope you all know, is the name of the current emperor of Japan. His wife's name is Michiko, which I've used in upcoming fics for Kisshouten's mother, but I wanted her to be white here so I used "Megan".

I don't know if Seiryuu or Hakuryuu will get the girl in the end here. As awful as this makes me, I really like the idea of pimpin' Kisshouten, complete with silly hat, tiger-print coat, and stiletto boots, with a handsome younger man on either side, beaming and holding a tropical drink or expensive gift, respectively. Oh Gawd. And now we've shot canon to Pluto, haven't we?

"Kunoichi" is a term for female ninja [or shinobi, if we're being totally accurate]. And Satsuki Igarashi, as most of you probably already knew, is a member of CLAMP.

Next up? Kendappa! And of course Souma, and Tenou too because the poor boy is obsessed with Kendie. I've never spent much time on the one-sided Tenou/Kendappa thing before, so you'll have to tell me how I did once I post it.)


	9. Pantsuits and Short Skirts

_Just like Tenou, Souma really, really likes Ms. Jikokuten. Kendappa wants to protect Souma from her boss, and she knows just how to do it._

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(AN: Good news for those of you who were waiting for Taishakuten to get what's coming to him: all sorts of unfortunate occurrences befall him in this one. Yay!

Kendappa's mother [I call her "Margaret" here] shows up, and we'll also see some Jikokuten. It's rather hard writing the backgroundiest of background characters, but hopefully you'll enjoy some of their scenes. And no, they aren't as important as their daughter, that daughter's object of affection, and the poor third-wheel admirer.

So warnings: lesbianism, straight sex, violent fantasies, adult language, a horrifying discovery, Tamara trying to seduce Tenou, mention of suicide, and a doctored bikini babe photo. Oh, and Yasha's gayness, but you already knew about that. And some characters say mean things about Buddhism, but don't jump on me for what they say, because I don't believe it.

This one starts years before the main part of "Adele", but it was necessary.)

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(June 23rd, 2002)

The room young Kendappa Jikokuten was sitting in was an interesting blend of Eastern and Western. There were a huge TV and expensive sound system, but the sound system was playing Buddhist chants from a Tibetan monastery. Actually, this room was far more Eastern than Western, with its Japanese furniture, Indian paintings, Nepalese knickknacks, and of course, the bonsai and mini Zen sand garden. Yes, her devoutly Buddhist father had made this living room his own, to the consternation of his Christian wife.

Kendappa was not alone in this room. On the couch next to her sat a beautiful woman with long, wavy black hair and blue eyes, and across from her stood a tall man with black hair as well, brown eyes, a tie with a mandala on it, and a snappy suit. Darrel Jikokuten beamed at his wife and daughter, and told them, "Margaret and Kendappa, I have excellent, wonderful news. You see, we're moving to Nepal as soon as we can!"

Kendappa lit up in excitement. Cool, living in a foreign country! Margaret gasped in horror. No, they couldn't leave Zenmi and her husband's high-paying job!

"Darrel, why?!" she demanded almost hysterically. "What about Tenkai Corporation?!"

"I've resigned my position, dear," he answered serenely, making her gasp in horror again. "You see, the time has come for me to focus on my spiritual journey, and I can't do that as a Senior Vice President. I _can _do that in Nepal, in the monastic district of Lumbini to be precise, the birthplace of Siddhartha Gautama and a mecca for those seeking a higher–"

"DARREL! We are _not _moving to some piddling Asian country just so you can fill your head with more of your Buddhist nonsense! It's bad enough you kept giving Father Frank Zen riddles, and made our daughter practice mindfulness instead of ballet, and refuse to eat any of the meat I work so hard to make, now you're forcing us to move to a freezing-cold country so you can chant with loonies like you to be reborn as a sacred cow!" Margaret screamed, jumping to her feet and sticking a finger in her husband's face.

"No Mom, animals are a lower step on the journey of reincarnation," Kendappa pointed out before Jikokuten could do so. "And Buddhism doesn't have sacred cows, that's Hinduism."

"And Nepal isn't all freezing mountains," he said calmly, catching his wife's finger and patting her hand. "Parts of it are actually tropical. Now Margaret, I know this is a big shock, but think of all the benefits to expanding your knowledge of–"

"NO! No, honey, NO! How can you expect us to just drop our lives and move somewhere with a language we don't speak, just so _you _can get high off meditation?!" she bellowed, yanking her hand back and smacking him upside the head. "I refuse to go along with this! Your crackpot notions of cosmic togetherness and karma crap have gone far enough, and I'm calling Dr. Weinerschnitzel right now to _make _you get on some antipsychotics!"

"Don't hit Dad, Mom!" Kendappa cried, yanking her mother back before she could continue the smacking. After all, Jikokuten wasn't fighting back.

"Margaret darling," he said as soothingly and as winningly as he could, "we _have _to do this, for the greater good. Don't you see, once we break the bonds of this superficial and material existence, we'll be so much better off. Now, I have quit my job, we're moving to Nepal, and that's that. Kendappa," he smiled, turning to her, "what do _you _think of all this?"

Well, _she _thought this was a good thing. After all, all her friends at school kept giggling on about boys and putting down lesbians, and Kendappa was getting the distinct inkling that she was one of those. Plus, she was bored, she wanted excitement, she'd always wanted to live somewhere exotic, and she was more Buddhist than Christian so she was down with getting farther into that. Really, all she had here were her family and her expensive stuff, but her family would be with her in Nepal and stuff was just stuff, in the end.

So she grinned at her dad and told him, "I'm stoked to move to Nepal! Mom, it'll be fun!"

And that _was_ that, and Margaret had no choice but to go along. A divorce would lose her not only her hubby, who she did actually love an awful lot, but her beloved daughter too. So she gritted her teeth and acquiesced to Nepal, but not without a lot of complaining and trying to make her husband change his mind.

No use.

.

(May 20th, 2014)

Kendappa Jikokuten, the new Senior Vice President of Real Estate in Tenkai Corporation, sat in a deserted office at seven-thirty in the morning. As she waited for her new boss to make an appearance, she ran back over the past twelve years in her head.

In that time, Jikokuten had shaved his head, changed his first name to "Dhrtarastra", become a full monk at the Lotus of the Eastern River of the Stars Monastery, and divorced poor tortured Margaret. It had been a bad end to the love affair that had begun with a Belinda Carlisle concert date and giggly phone calls every night, for sure. But they _had _been growing rapidly apart for three years prior to that decision, so when he'd sighed, "Margaret dear, the abbot says I can't be married and a monk, so we'll have to separate," she'd been upset but not stunned.

Margaret had changed her last name back to "Harper", and returned to the USA just in time to get Kendappa into a good college. Kendappa had discovered that her near-instinctual grasp of the business principles her dad had taught her would take her far, and by the tender age of twenty-five she'd been the CEO of Gandarajah Incorporated, a small production firm that had been doing so well, it had attracted Arthur Taishakuten's attention. And he had given her a choice, something not very many CEOs in his sights got: she could join him and take her dad's old position, or she could fight him and lose everything.

She was no dummy, and she'd taken the "ally" route.

So today was her first day as the "General of Real Estate", and soon, everyone would know. But right now this was known only to herself, Taishakuten, Hanranya Seering, and one Nina Souma, who was apparently Taishakuten's assistant. Kendappa had emailed and talked to her on the phone, but she hadn't laid eyes on her yet. Well, maybe they'd be friends.

No sooner had she thought that than the door opened and Taishakuten walked in… followed by a vision in black. This woman was tall, dark-skinned, with shoulder-length black hair and gorgeous emerald eyes, and wearing a sexy suit with a really short skirt, oh my. Kendappa's little homosexual heart beat a bit faster at this, moved in no small way by the brilliant smile the black-clad babe sent her.

Taishakuten took no notice, and smirked, "Nina, meet the General of Real Estate, Kendappa Jikokuten. She's here to wipe the floor with the competition, just like the other three. Oh, and stain the ground with the business blood of anyone who gets in my way, right Kendappa?"

Kendappa, a little weirded out by such violent words, nevertheless smiled and nodded, "Yeah, what he said."

Taishakuten gestured to the dark woman and went on, "And this is my assistant, Nina Souma. I'm sure you'll get along with her as well. Most people do."

Souma smiled another brilliant smile and stuck a hand out for Kendappa to shake, with a cheerfully polite, "How lovely to meet you, Ms. Jikokuten. I look forwards to working with you. It's about time we had a female Senior Vice President!"

As Kendappa shook back, Souma really studied her. She was beautiful, with big, long-lashed blue eyes and long black hair, and some exotic hair jewelry. Souma wasn't really sure how to categorize it: it looked like big, round barrettes of blue with gold wing thingies off the sides, with those neat Asian tassels off the end of the round bits, plus a connected low headband. Well, Taishakuten had said she'd lived in Asia for years, so this made sense.

And her smile – oh GOD, her smile was stunning. Souma had the overwhelming sense that this woman was special, and from the depths of her heart and emotional brain, a little voice sang, _I think this just might be My Lady! And her pantsuit matches her dreamboat eyes, whee!_

Unfortunately they did not get a chance to chat, because Taishakuten dictated that Kendappa would make an entrance into the daily Senior VP briefing, hopefully shocking the men and making them get amusing expressions on their faces. Oh, dear Reginald Bishamonten would be so affronted that his boss hadn't told him all about this, Taishakuten thought with a mental snigger.

And ha-ha-ha, yes, they were all shocked. Bishamonten's shock soon passed to impressed obedience, Aaron Zouchouten's shock soon passed to pleased surprise that "little Kendie" was all grown up and ready to play hardball with the big boys, and Xavier Koumokuten's shock soon passed to bad-tempered annoyance. A _girl?! _But the Generals were all manly! And sheesh, this girl looked a demure damsel or something, not badass like his wife Aguni at all. He made the decision that he would play the part of rival, just to prove a point.

And unfortunately again, Kendappa did not get a chance to talk to Souma after that briefing, either. Instead she was whisked off to meet her assistant, Zachary Hollyfield.

Zachary was annoying, she decided after twenty mere minutes of listening to him. He was overeager and not too bright, and she made the mental note that as soon as it was possible to do so without getting yelled at by her boss, she would request a newer, better assistant. And his glasses, argh! They were like 1950s Buddy Holly glasses, and he probably thought they made him look edgy and hip. Nope, they just made him look even dorkier.

_I am saddled with a loser, _she thought as she did some work on her computer. _Why can't I be saddled with – Nina! …Ooh, "saddled" could be construed in a vaguely euphemistic way, bringing to mind "cowgirls" or something. Yeah, I can ride Nina like a–_

Before Kendappa's thoughts got any more "R"-rated, Zouchouten and Bishamonten popped in to show her around. Soon she had learned all about Zouchouten's little son Andrew and his "wonderful wife", who from the pictures she'd seen was gorgeous and half his age. Oh well, to each their own, and if Ellen Karura liked middle-aged men with really weird sideburns who would crush her if he rolled over while sleeping, more power to her.

She then re-met Victor Kujaku, who explained the backstory of Bishamonten, his wife Shashi, and their son Tenou. After that, she met Harold Kumaraten, who seemed eager for her to leave so he could get back to his work. After _that_, she met the horror that was Charles Vahyu – if you were an attractive man, that was. But ha, she wasn't, so she found him indescribably amusing in his flaming, fruity way.

Yes, she would be okay here. All she had to do was impress Taishakuten with her work, and get a better assistant. And if she was _reeeally _lucky, she could get to know Souma in the Biblical sense.

.

Two weeks later, things were still going well.

Kendappa had demonstrated her business butt-kicking abilities, by aggressively pursuing any company or location she was pointed in the direction of. Zouchouten thought this was great, Bishamonten thought this was great, Taishakuten thought this was really great, and Koumokuten thought this sucked. So not fair! Women who looked demure should _be _demure, and not better than he was. Oh well, he decided as he watched Kendappa watch Souma, she was obviously a dyke so that meant she wasn't all woman.

Alas, Kendappa had not had much of a chance to interact with Souma. She kept trying to go over to her when their lunchtimes coincided, but unfortunately Zouchouten kept corralling her to show more family pictures. The man was like a doting grandpa times three, but since Kendappa actually liked family pictures a lot she never had the heart to say, "Gee thanks, but I want to go sit with Nina. And James and Victor, but mostly Nina."

In this period of fourteen days, she had learned that Karura loved birds, liked to tango, had a math brain, didn't like pomegranates, adored her little sister, had gotten married outside, and had "eyes so blue they make the sky pale in comparison, but unfortunately you can't really see that in this picture." Clearly, here was a man who would never divorce his wife for monkhood.

Kendappa had also learned that Jikokuten's search for enlightenment at the expense of his job was the stuff of company legend, and in fact, Kujaku had coined the phrase "pulling a Darrel" for people who quit their positions and went off to better themselves. Needless to say, everyone kept asking her if her dad had achieved nirvana yet, and/or if he would chant for Taishakuten's death. She would give them an exasperated look and remind them, "He's my boss, don't say things like that!"

_I dunno why everybody hates him so much, _she thought as she typed something. _He's very smart, and very powerful, and I like strong people and he's the strongest one I've ever met. Yeah he's mean, but can't they all understand that that's part of why he's so strong and successful? If you worry about what other people think, you'll find yourself dragged down._

However, this didn't mean she didn't grin and praise, "What a badass," when she was told the story of Kuyou Seering's "I quit!" speech. Yes, Kuyou had blown up at her boss (and Bishamonten and Koumokuten) once she'd learned that her beloved Karl Ashuraou had decided to be Taishakuten's beyotch. She had told him to go to hell and numerous other ballsy sentiments, then walked out of the skyscraper with her cats' picture in her hands and no backwards glances.

Kuyou was livin' the good life now. After her impassioned tirade against Taishakuten two years ago, she had very quickly found a position in a different company with a boss who adored her. Lila Simmington, CEO of Simmington Inc., appreciated Kuyou's secretarial genius and paid her what she was worth, and liked her as a person as well. In fact, she had fixed Kuyou up with her cousin Frederic, who unlike Ashuraou was very observant and would never, _ever _whore himself out for his (nonexistent) son.

Frederic would propose the next year, with a roomful of flowers and "You Light Up My Life" playing on the stereo. He and Kuyou would live happily ever after, and send Taishakuten a "Neener-neener" postcard of the two of them on their honeymoon, standing on a beach in Hawai'i, which he would glower at and rip up. How dare that uppity bitch have a nice life after she'd stood up to him, and told him she hoped Ashuraou bit something important?

Kendappa had also spent more time with Kuyou's twin Hanranya, and had concluded that the nickname of "Scary Seering" was accurate. This woman would have committed hara-kiri for Taishakuten's amusement, even if he would just shrug and walk out of the room after that. Everybody knew he was gay and had a man, yet Hanranya kept loving him. It was kind of pitifully annoying, Kendappa thought to herself. Oh well, sometimes you fell in love with someone who was bad for you, and no matter how you tried, you couldn't get yourself out of that hole.

And as time went on, as she interacted more with Taishakuten and watched him with Souma in particular, Kendappa found herself wondering if Hanranya was insane. Three months later she had decided that he was, while still worthy of tremendous respect, not so great as she'd thought he was. After witnessing him get a Jimmy John's delivery boy fired because the people back at the shop had made a mistake, she thought to herself, _What a __dick__. _Which to a lesbian carried more weight than it did to a straight woman, or a man.

She liked strong people, but this was ridiculous. The man thought he was some sort of god-emperor, and amused himself by metaphorically throwing his subjects to the lions. Poor Souma didn't deserve that! Poor Souma deserved a boss who would give her days off, and gift baskets, and massages should she want them.

Yeah… massages. Clad only in towels, in some nice deserted room, with soothing, romantic music in the background, and maybe some herbal tea and cookies. Which of course would be ignored, because–

"Ms. Jikokuten?" Zachary whined. "Ms. Jikokuten, those people from Idaho say the mine's been shut down for environmental infractions. What do we do now?"

_We slap you upside the head and return to our fantasy, you idiotic waste of life. _That was what she really wanted to say, but instead she sighed, "Well, we find a mine that hasn't been shut down and go after them, obviously. Zachary, please stop whining, it's giving me a headache."

Before a conference, she muttered to Zouchouten, "He's so annoying. He's so dumb. He's so – so _not _my ideal assistant," she grouched, staring at Souma's profile as Souma laughed with Yasha.

"Ellen is _my _ideal assistant," Zouchouten grinned, patting his wife's hand. She smiled back at him, and Kendappa thought this was cute.

She liked Karura, and had decided that here was a super-strong woman who would probably turn vigilante if her family was hurt. From Baby Andrew to Sister Karyoubinga to Hubby Zouchouten, even to Dog Lola and Birds Garuda, Gandarava, and the rest of the flock, Ellen Karura would vow revenge and get it too. Good! It was wonderful that the nice one out of the male Generals had such a great family.

Well, okay, Bishamonten's son Tenou was super-sweet, but Shashi was a super-bitch and Aguni and Tamara were something straight out of a nightmare. Kendappa wasn't surprised by that last part though, given the man of the house.

"Xavier," Bishamonten was just saying, "pass me that donut with the chocolate sprinkles and maple frosting."

Koumokuten obediently passed it over, and Bishamonten took it with his _left hand_, yay! Finally the cast he'd been burdened with was off, and he could drive and type regularly. Yasha had been doing double duty as stenographer, and he too was pleased that his boss had two functional arms again. Yes, Bishamonten had recovered, and in fact, Shashi was about to pop by and they'd have a little celebration.

As Kendappa pulled something up on her laptop, Souma turned to watch her and heaved a longing little sigh. Oh, she was so wonderful! She was Her Lady, Souma had no doubt in her mind, and she wanted so very much to go work for her. But all she could do at this point in time was keep on being the best CEO's assistant she could, so he'd be lenient when she requested a transfer to Kendappa, screw Zachary. That had been Souma's plan for two whole years, and surely such dedication would end well.

So she hung on Taishakuten's every word, and she performed her duties flawlessly, and she even laughed at his mean jokes, all the while watching Kendappa and thinking, _Please, fire Zachary this minute! Request that I come work for you, and then you'll see how much I love you, Kendappa Jikokuten._

But nope, she didn't. She smiled back at Souma, but when the conference ended she left with Zachary in tow, on to the next task. Souma sighed in her head, but when Taishakuten told her she could head to lunch, she thanked him politely and thought, _Maybe I can sit at her table?_

_No wait, _she realized with a frown as she walked down the hallway, _she mentioned she had a lunch meeting. Drat. Well, okay, maybe I can sidle on over to Ellen or Aaron and casually ask them if they think she needs a new assistant. Or even if she's mentioned a mate. And __if she __hasn't__, maybe I can be that mate! Provided she likes women, that is._

Oh, _why _did everyone in this company but her, Hanranya, and Varuna have a love match made in Heaven? She wondered that as Kujaku and Yasha crossed an intersection ahead of her, grinning at each other with sparkling eyes. Karura and Zouchouten, Yasha and Kujaku, Taishakuten and Ashuraou, Vahyu and his – well, reams of devoted love slaves, Koumokuten and that nutter Aguni, and Bishamonten and Shashi. All of them had a happy ending, but not poor Nina Sou–

And lo and behold, who should be stepping out of the elevator but Shashi Prince, wife of the Senior VP of Expansion, dressed in a sexy suit and heels higher than Souma would ever wear, with an anticipatory smile on her face. She caught sight of Souma and smiled, "Well hello, Nina. And how are you?"

"As well as can be expected working with Taishakuten," Souma mumbled so only Shashi could hear, then continued in a normal voice, "How are you? I'm surprised to see you here during the workday."

Shashi smiled, "I'm here to go out to lunch with Reginald. It's a treat to ourselves for getting through his arm being broken. I'm sure it'll be very enjoyable." This was true… if "going out to lunch" was code for "having sex in his office".

Yes, she was here for a workplace booty call. Both she and her husband thought office sex sounded ever so adventurous and naughty, so they'd decided to try it. After all, it was his office and he could do what he wanted in it, ha. It wasn't like no one's office in this skyscraper hadn't been used for such a thing before!

"That's so nice," Souma smiled back, unaware of the sex thing. "I'm sure he's very pleased to be free of that cast."

"Oh, he is," Shashi agreed, remembering whines of, "I can't even tie my own shoes, dammit! Shashi, tie my shoes please. I swear, I'm never prancing around on a rock for the rest of my life, and Aaron has another think coming if he expects me to _ever_ join him and his family for a hike again. You live and you learn, and I've learned not to let Nature get the best of me."

Souma and Shashi nodded to each other and went their separate ways, Shashi to the office love shack, Souma to the cafeteria. But she couldn't help but think, _He ate two donuts. He probably won't be very hungry at that restaurant._

.

Tenou was in _love_, and it was just his luck that he was in love with a lesbian. Kendappa was the fulfillment of all his dreams, except for that unfortunate not liking men part, which he, alas, had no idea of. Nope, poor Tenou thought she was a straight woman who just wasn't dating any men right now.

Whenever the band jammed out, he watched her. He showed off, even. He chatted her up and she liked him, he knew that for a fact. But unfortunately, like a lot of other people around, she had missed the signs that he was interested in her. She wasn't as bad as Karura or especially Ashuraou, since Tenou was being very cautious in his wooing so far, but she was still unobservant. After all, Nathan Ryuu and his cousins had picked up on this attraction pretty quickly.

His father had not. Nope, Bishamonten thought his son had merely made a new friend, one who happened to be female, because after all, she was his coworker and eight years older than Tenou. On the other hand, Shashi had gotten a distinct inkling that this was an appreciation of a romantic nature, and wondered what to do about it. Should she confront him about it? Should she mention it to her husband and they could both confront him about it? Should she confront Kendappa and order her to stay away from Tenou?

Yes, Shashi too thought Kendappa was heterosexual. Her radar for gay people was primitive, as should have been evidenced by Taishakuten. Heck, when Bishamonten had told her that Souma was a lesbian she'd rolled her eyes and snapped, "That wasn't a funny joke, Reginald. She wears makeup and skirts, she can't be a lesbian!"

But Bishamonten had picked up on Kendappa's lesbianism. He was the corporate spymaster, and after the Yasha/Kujaku revelation he'd become much more adept at identifying the homosexual. Really, the way she kept looking at Souma was a huge giveaway.

As he came home from work that day, fondly remembering Shashi's visit, Tenou greeted him at the door with a happy, "Hi Dad! How was work?"

"Explosively wonderful," Bishamonten replied truthfully, in as normal and unsuspicious a tone as he could. "And how about your day? How did the volunteering go?"

Tenou volunteered at the Children's Museum, which to some people would be the equivalent of volunteering in Hell, but to him it was great! He could help children learn, and avert fights and bullying, and share the wisdom he had gathered through his twenty years of life. His supervisors adored him, and more than one wished he wouldn't head back to college in the fall.

"The volunteering went well," he told his father, as Bishamonten set his briefcase down and strode into the kitchen. "This one little girl was so cute! I think she must have been Somali because she was wearing a headcloth and a long dress, but all these boys were having trouble figuring out a puzzle, and she got it first try."

"If only her uber-misogynist and backwards culture could have been there to see that," Bishamonten muttered, being one of those men who'd had it up to here with Islam.

Tenou, wisely recognizing the signs of a cutting lecture, averted it with a casual, "How's Kendappa? Did she tell you she wrote a song for the band?"

"No, she didn't. But she's fine. She seems to be getting rather fed up with her assistant, though," Bishamonten revealed rather smugly, because _his _assistant was the best one ever. He went on, "You know, Tenou, I'm so pleased she's part of our team now. In my opinion, she's better than her father was. Not least because she keeps her Buddhism to a normal level," he finished judgmentally.

Tenou really didn't have a good response to that, so he excused himself to go read. But he was not reading a novel or a history book this time, oh no. Nor was he reading poetry, a science book, a self-help book, a comic strip collection, manga, or even fanfiction. No, Tenou was rereading his diary, which for more than two months had dealt with Kendappa in every entry, in some way.

Why did he do this? Mostly because he liked to see how his thoughts on her had progressed. And he liked to recapture that giddy feeling of their first meeting, over at Hakuryuu and Seiryuu's house. He'd walked in expecting to see only them, Ryuu, and maybe Kisshouten (who he suspected kept hanging around for the shirtlessness), and then he'd seen an _angel_. An angel wearing blue jeans and an "Amaterasu Pwns Jesus" shirt, with a brilliant smile he would never, ever forget.

So he reread his entry for that day ("I've found her. I've found my ideal woman!"), then other days, ("I want to stare into her beautiful eyes and tell her just what she means to me"), then more other days ("It's fate, it has to be! If Mother and Dad found each other after eighteen years, I know the universe is sending me a sign"), and all the way up to yesterday ("How soon is it to ask out the love of your life?").

Let's all feel really, really sorry for Tenou Prince-Bishamonten, the man in head-over-heels love with a lesbian.

.

Four days later, it was the afternoon of the biggest business dinner of the year: the Arthur K. Taishakuten Awards Dinner, which had prior to his rule been named the "Tenkai Corporation Awards Dinner". Vern Kujaku had made it fun, Taishakuten made it an hours-long orgy of ego-stroking, most but not all of it directed at him. Simply everyone who was anyone in the company was required to attend, and in fact, this was the setting where Shashi had met her ex-fiancé three years ago.

The denizens of Tenkai Corporation and their families prepared for it in various ways. Taishakuten practiced his speech to an applauding Ashuraou, a raspberry-blowing Ashura, and a bored Shuratou, Ashura's German Shepherd. Ashuraou bought himself a new bowtie, a gold one. Ashura tried to fake sick, but as he'd done that for the past two years his father finally saw through it.

Bishamonten had Shashi give him a massage, so he wouldn't be so tense (yeah, sure). Shashi in turn had dropped major dollars on a new dress, one that was sparkly red. Tenou hauled out his tuxedo with a sigh, and thought to himself, _Well, at least I'll see Kendappa, and – hey, maybe she'll think I'm dashing! Like my dad! Except closer to her age and actually available._

Zouchouten trimmed his sideburns, and told his son, "Da-da's going to a fancy-wancy dinner, Andrew-Bandrew. You get to stay home and play with Jade, but someday you'll come with us, won't you? Yes you _will!_" Andrew chortled and pulled one of his daddy's sideburns, making Zouchouten wince. Karura opened her jewelry box to find a sparkling pair of diamond drop earrings that she hadn't bought herself, courtesy of her husband. Karyoubinga got out her new fancy shoes, with a _half-inch heel_.

Koumokuten sang "Puttin' On The Ritz" as he zipped up Aguni's scandalous orange sequined dress, and Aguni sang along, for a musical match made in Hell. Tamara gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it, then applied even more makeup so Tenou would notice her.

Kumaraten told himself, _Deep breaths Harold, and remember, it's the same speech as last year's, you just need to remember the product you worked on. _Kahra braided her hair, and told her husband, "Oh honey, I'm so proud of you!" Kujaku tied a purple bowtie with smiley faces, grinning at his reflection. Yasha gave Kujaku's bowtie a weird look, and tied on a boring black one.

Hanranya polished her glasses and intoned to herself, "I must make sure Taishakuten knows how much I adore him, even if he'll never adore me back." Vahyu smirked as his latest conquest styled his hair, having seduced his hairdresser for just this occasion. Varuna tried to put on cufflinks while already wearing his tuxedo jacket, and predictably couldn't do so and had to take it off.

Souma herself shimmied into a slinky back dress as she thought, _Must be incredibly sexy, but not vulgar. Must be classy-sexy! And must find an excuse to sit at Kendappa's table for the majority of the meal. Maybe I'll ask her to dance? No, that might be too forward, but maybe she'll ask __me__ to dance. In which case I'll proceed to wow her with my footwork, and maybe dip her backwards since I'm the taller one._

As for Kendappa, she was currently sighing into her phone, "Mom, c'mon, stop catastrophizing. Taishakuten probably doesn't even remember who you are, and even if he does, he's not going to start bitching you out for what Dad did. And if by some _miraculous _chance he does, all you need to do is tell him you divorced Dad with much enthusiasm and tell him horror stories. Trust me, it'll be fine."

"Kendappa dear, I don't know why I agreed to this," Margaret mumbled, fixing one of her earrings on the other end of the line.

"Because I needed a family member to come with me, and I want to make a good impression, and you said earlier you wondered how the corporation's changed and this is your chance to find out. Plus, I want you to meet all my friends, like Nina, Victor, James, Ellen, Tenou, and Nina, and re-meet Aaron and Reginald. Plus meet my friend Nina," Kendappa said seriously.

"You said the name 'Nina' three times, honey," Margaret pointed out suspiciously. "Is there something I should know, my daughter who only likes women?"

Desperate to avoid another grilling, Kendappa lied, "No Mom, I just forgot I'd mentioned her earlier, that's all. Anyway, I'm leaving now and I'll be at your house in half an hour, okay?"

When she showed up, Margaret had composed herself. As they drove, she even asked, "Do you suppose Reginald and his cohorts will remember me? I liked Aaron a lot, so I hope he at least can recall who I am. Now, didn't you say Reginald divorced that lovely Kisshouten?"

"Yeah, but she's currently being pursued by a pair of studly younger rock musicians, so she's doing all right for herself," Kendappa said absently, taking the turnoff.

Once they got there and the valet parked the car, Kendappa and her mom were ushered into the banquet hall, and more than a few heads turned to look at them, not least for Kendappa's attire. For you see, Kendappa's hatred of skirts extended to formalwear, and so she was wearing a lady tux, tailored and classy and paired with nice heels. Margaret was wearing an off-the-shoulder blue dress, and she looked good in it too. They made a pretty picture, and Tenou looked over and felt his heart leap with attraction. Oh wow, Kendappa was all independent and unconcerned about societal pressures!

Kendappa was just introducing Margaret to Karura when her mother's attention was caught by the man who'd just walked in, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a tuxedo, his brown hair gleaming and with a fond smile on his face as he nodded at Souma. He was accompanied by another man who also looked good in a tux, but Margaret wasn't paying attention to Kujaku.

She breathed, "Kendappa honey, who's the man with the long brown hair, the handsome face, the broad shoulders, and the eyes that look like the sky at night?"

Kendappa, getting a bad feeling about this, looked over and replied, "Oh, that's James, Mom. James Yasha, he's Reginald's assistant. He's in a long-term relationship," she said desperately, a little afraid of her mother's adoring expression.

"Oh, is he now," said mother murmured, thinking to herself, _Long-term relationships can fall apart. I know that for a fact! When you find something you want more than your partner, you kick them to the curb and go for what you want, Darrel taught me that._

As Margaret watched Yasha like a hawk, Kendappa met Souma's eyes and missed this warning sign. Oh man, Souma looked stunningly beautiful, and elegant, and sexy too. She looked damn good in black, and her gold and green jewelry added an exotic touch to her appearance. The Senior VP of Real Estate made the mistake of leaving her mother alone and walked over to Souma, who lit up at her approach and came towards her too.

"Kendappa, I'm so impressed with your outfit!" Souma complimented sincerely. "I don't often see women wearing tuxedos, and you look lovely."

"Oh, you know me, I think skirts are the devil," Kendappa smirked in reply, then complimented in turn, "But they do make other people look good, like you. And what a pretty necklace! It looks Indian. Is it?" she asked eagerly, being a woman who liked ethnic jewelry.

"It sure is," Souma grinned, proud of her multicultural tastes. "It's an heirloom actually, on my mother's side. The stone's an emerald, and I always feel a little nervous wearing it in public. But then again, jewelry is _meant _to be worn, not locked in a safe or displayed in an exhibit, don't you think?"

Kendappa agreed, "So true. So Nina, who are you sitting with?"

"I've been assigned a table with Charles and Edward," Souma sighed, casting an unimpressed eye over Vahyu and Varuna, one of which looked great and the other of which looked uncomfortable and out of place. "And you?"

"My mom and I are sitting with Aaron, Ellen, and that cute little Karyou," Kendappa replied, keeping the smugness out of her voice with ease. "Here, come meet my – where'd she go?" she asked the world in surprise, not seeing Margaret.

Hidden from her daughter's sight by Ashuraou and Taishakuten, Margaret had cozied up to Yasha. This was mostly possible because Kujaku was chatting up Kumaraten and Kahra, and thus the barrier of "life partner" was gone. And unfortunately for Yasha, he was bad at getting women to leave him alone. So far he thought Margaret was just being friendly, though, which also unfortunately meant he didn't give off any signals that she was making him uncomfortable.

"Oh yes, I've worked for Mr. Bishamonten for six years now," he was saying, as she hung on his every word. "It's a challenging job, but rewarding."

"Darrel always said it was hard," she agreed, turning so he got her best side. "He always hated how the–"

"Geez, Mom, don't run off like that," Kendappa interrupted from behind her, an annoyed tone to her words. "C'mon, we're supposed to be sitting down now. Hi James," she said belatedly, taking hold of Margaret's arm and starting to steer her over to their table.

Throughout the meal, Margaret watched Yasha as Kendappa watched Souma. Throughout the toasts and speeches, ditto. Throughout the myriad awards, it was the same, and Kendappa finally realized that her mom was paying more attention to that one table over there than her daughter's speech. Well, maybe she was intrigued by two gay men?

Nope, Kujaku and Yasha had kept the homosexual activities to a bare minimum: a toast, lots of smiles, and footsie under the table but Margaret couldn't see that. So she thought this merely meant that they were pals, as her daughter had mentioned that they worked in the same office.

And finally, after all the awards had been awarded, all the speeches had been spoken, and all the praise had been praised, it was time for the ballroom dancing portion of this event. Yasha had been adamant that there would be no ballroom dancing on his part in public, so Kujaku left him sitting alone with a cheery, "Spoilsport," and went off to have fun with anybody who fancied having a turn with him – in a platonic, dance way. Souma actually found herself doing so, because dancing was fun and surely everybody knew this was completely a friendship thing.

Kendappa, thankfully, knew this too. After all, she knew of the Kujaku/Yasha partnership, and the odds of Kujaku cheating on him with Souma, or Souma being okay with that, were slim to none. As she herself danced with Tenou as a friend (or so she thought), she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she should ask Souma to dance with her next. And _then_, they could move to the music like it was part of them, making everybody else stop and ring them like in a movie. Oh boy, that would be so–

"Tenou! Tenou, come dance with _me!_" Tamara butted in, taking hold of his arm as one song ended. She shot Kendappa a glare, which rather confused the head of Real Estate.

Tenou quickly shot Kendappa a "Please back me up" glance, and replied, "Well, I'm dancing with Kendappa, and we're having lots of fun. Right Kendappa?" he nearly pleaded.

Kendappa, being a great friend, immediately agreed, "_Sooo _much fun. But maybe he can dance with you when we're done, okay?" she suggested, correctly interpreting Tenou's answering nod. Translated, it was this: "We can keep dancing, then when we're done say we're too tired! Brilliant, Kendappa!"

As Tamara pouted and went off to bully Vahyu into dancing with her, and Souma went to talk to Karyoubinga about Andrew, Margaret had gotten up the nerve to approach Yasha again. She smiled a brilliant smile at him, held a hand out, and asked, "James, won't you dance with me?"

Uh-oh. It belatedly dawned on Yasha that he'd inadvertently entranced yet another woman, and he hastened to reply, "Oh no thank you, I don't dance with anyone but–"

"Oh please?" she wheedled, fluttering her eyelashes and shifting her weight so her figure was emphasized. "You and I get along so well, and I really think we–"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm not going to dance with you," he said firmly, pushing his chair back and standing up. "You'd be better served by asking someone else. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to, um, use the men's room. Bye, Margaret."

And with that he walked off, putting her out of his mind with ease. Conversely, for the rest of the night, into the very early morning, she thought of him. Here, at last, was a man who could take the place of Jikokuten! In fact, he was _better_ thanher ex-husband, because he was handsomer, younger, and not a Buddhist whacko. He was smart and dedicated, and boy did he have a nice build.

Margaret Harper made the vow, at one-forty-four in the morning, that she would make James Yasha love her, and then her life would be complete.

.

Five days later, Taishakuten had called his Generals and their assistants together for Zouchouten to show off a new product: a smartphone called the Phoenix. Kumaraten, who had won yet another award for this, was adamant that it was even better than the fabled Scimitar, because it was faster and had better sound quality, more memory, and could be customized in literally a million ways. Not to mention, it had a kickass graphic on the back for that edgy look.

He had brought the precious prototype (well, one of them) up, and it was currently being passed around. As Varuna played a game on it purely to see if it worked (really!), Karura was saying, "And the best part is, more than seventy-five percent of this is recycled or re-purposed. Environmental concerns are really starting to influence buyers, so if we can promote how much better for the planet this is than most phones, we'll come out on top."

Varuna lost his game, pouted, and handed the phone to Souma as Taishakuten smirked, "Just one more way to sucker in the liberals."

Zouchouten cautiously replied, "Well, sir, actually, a surprising number of conservatives are starting to realize how important it is to protect our planet too, and–"

His sentence remained forever unfinished. Souma had just tried to pass the Phoenix to Bishamonten, but in one of those unfortunate fumbles, neither of them had a hand on it and it started to fall. Souma's quick reflexes tried to catch it, but she ended up knocking over his coffee, and the Phoenix landed in the flood of Starbucks doom. It sparked for a moment as they both drew back in instinctive fright, then went dead as the entire room gasped.

"Nina!" Taishakuten snarled, making Kendappa suck in a concerned breath. "Are you an imbecile, Nina, or merely a dunce? That was a very important prototype you just ruined, you clumsy bitch with the brain of a snail."

Zouchouten hastily tried, "Sir, it was an _accident! S_he didn't _mean _to–"

"Silence, Aaron," Taishakuten barked, sending a scathing glare Zouchouten's way. "This does not concern you, you glandular freak. Actually no, it does, because it was something your team worked on, and Butterfingers here destroyed it."

Zouchouten shut his mouth with a snap, but Karura hissed, "Mr. Taishakuten, he's right. Yes it was unfortunate, but your insults were uncalled for and–"

"Aaron, rein her in or she's looking at a pay cut," Taishakuten interrupted, with the deadly calm voice that made everyone freeze in fear. "And so are you, and anyone else who wants to tell the big boss what he can or can't say. Understood, underlings?"

Everyone else nodded hastily, Karura glaring down at the floor and Yasha gritting his teeth. Kendappa herself wanted to scream, "Don't yell at her anymore! She didn't do it on purpose! Don't call her a bitch with the brain of a snail, because she couldn't help what she did and if she could, she wouldn't have done it! Gods, leave her alone!"

But she held her tongue, although Souma's expression nearly proved her undoing. It was humiliated, guilty, and with a bit of fear mixed in, and she awkwardly apologized, "I'm so sorry, sir. And Aaron, and Reginald too, for the coffee on your clothes. I can pay for those."

"No need," Bishamonten murmured, trying to get everyone's attention off this and back to business concerns. "I have more. I do want more coffee though, James," he directed at Yasha, who immediately nodded and went down to get him some.

As the meeting continued as best it could without a working prototype present, Souma thought to herself, _I hate you, Arthur Taishakuten. I feel bad enough I made that mistake, and you not only yelled at me, you wouldn't let anyone else defend me. You __suck__, you horrible bastard with the kindness capacity of a velociraptor, and one of these days I'm going to snap and kick your head off, and you'll deserve it like nothing else._

Kendappa felt like hugging Souma to make her feel better, but no, that was a bad idea. Taishakuten would just zero in on that, and then there would be trouble for both of them. She did give her an encouraging smile as they all left the conference room, and somehow, Souma felt much lighter after that.

.

The next day, Kendappa found herself out on the town. She was in the mood for a new outfit, a sexy new pantsuit. So she drove herself on down to the chicest of the boutiques for women, L'elegant. She'd shopped there before, and she liked it because the sales staff knew not to give you weird looks when you told them, "I don't want a skirt or dress, I want nice, fancy pants," which was more than could be said for the majority of stores. It was so great to have money and power, because then nobody wanted to risk pissing you off.

So she found herself a pretty pantsuit in black this time, because she was starting to realize that black was a very lovely color. After all, Souma's hair was black!

No sooner had she paid for her new purchase than her phone rang. As she strolled to the door, she pulled out her phone and realized that it was Margaret calling her. Okay, that was cool, as long as she wasn't about to gush over Yasha again. Kendappa had already told her that he wasn't available and was in fact gay, so hopefully she'd taken the hint and let this stupid crush die.

She greeted, "Hi Mom, how are you? What's up?"

"James didn't return my emails," Margaret said huffily, making Kendappa frown. Oh great, the crush still had legs. Sheesh, why couldn't Margaret find herself a nice, middle-aged man who was straight and very kind too?

"Hey wait a minute," Kendappa said suspiciously, something having occurred to her. "How did you get his email address?! Mom, you're not _stalking _him, are you?!" she demanded, with a horrible vision crawling through her mind's eye: Margaret, dressed in all black and a ski mask, hiding in Yasha's bushes with a length of rope and a gag.

"I asked that nice Dr. Prince for it," Margaret smugly replied. "And no honey, of course I'm not stalking him! That would be wrong. Kendappa dear, have you ever realized what a wonderful man he is, though? Shashi says he wins awards on top of awards, and he's a _triple _black belt in taekwondo! He could protect anyone, and look ever so handsome and dashing while doing so."

_Gawds, Mom, enough about James, _her daughter thought, but replied, "Mom, I told you, James is gay. He's–"

"He _can't _be gay!" Margaret protested vehemently. "He's too manly for that! I know multiple gay men, and I could tell within minutes of meeting them that they were homosexual. Kendappa, he must be _bisexual_, because he's far too rugged and macho to be only into men."

"Mom, he's gay. So is Taishakuten! He's–"

"Well _obviously_, dear. I've known since I met him that he was gay. I mean, Kendappa honey, he has long-lashed eyes, gorgeous hair longer than mine, and if you only saw a picture of his head, you'd think, 'Wow, what a beautiful woman.' He lacks a square jaw and masculine eyebrows even, and anyone who thinks he's a manly man is blind, honey," Margaret said smugly.

Kendappa snapped, "He may be pretty, but he's _very _dangerous and powerful, so don't say things like that! If he hears that you insulted his masculinity, I'll never hear the end of it and will probably be punished. Now, James is gay, end of story, goodbye." And with that she hung up, rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth in frustration.

And then, like Fate had spelled out that she would see something life-changing, a sight caught her eye. Arthur Taishakuten stepped out of his custom Mercedes a mere seven feet away, locked it, and strolled into a menswear shop without a glance at his surroundings. She found herself walking towards the window, and observed an associate ushering him back into a fitting room. She looked back at his car, and it seemed to glow as if to say, "He loves me, and I'm unprotected!"

Kendappa considered for a long, long time what her next action should be. Here was Taishakuten's defenseless car (unless it had a security system, which it probably did), with Taishakuten obliviously getting measured for his suit, away from the window. He was the man who had driven Souma's dad temporarily insane, and bitched her out yesterday for something that wasn't even her fault.

On the other hand, he was Kendappa's boss, and she worked hard for him. She admired his strength, and maybe she should just follow everybody else's example and swallow down her personal dislike of the man. Not to mention that if she vandalized his car, she was looking at possible jail time and a dead-certain firing if she was caught.

And yet, _someone _had to make this guy pay, since karma hadn't yet done so. Hey, maybe she was really karma's _agent _here! Maybe the universe wanted her to mess his car up, which would result in bad karma on her part, but perhaps if she donated extra money to that women's shelter it'd all even out. She nodded firmly, and reached into her purse for her dad's Swiss Army knife that she always carried with her. She'd made up her mind, and there was no time to waste!

So moving like she had a right to do this, she walked over to the front right wheel and stabbed it. Good, air hissed out, and now for the back right tire, then quickly into the street for the back left tire, and finally the front left one. Her movements were almost viciously controlled, and she moved like she had every right to puncture these tires. She thought she'd gotten away with it, but then–

"Uh, lady? The fuck did you just do to that car?!" a woman wearing hip-hop clothes asked, with an eyebrow raised and an "Oh no you _di-in't_" tone to her voice.

Kendappa just smiled serenely and told her, "Why, I was paying back my cheating, soon-to-be-_ex-_boyfriend for the way he slept with his secretary. He loves this car more than he ever loved me, so I thought it was appropriate."

The onlooker suddenly grinned, and replied, "Cool. I ain't seen nothin'."

They sent each other evil smiles, and Kendappa continued on her way. She'd done it! She felt a little surprised that she wasn't trembling with nerves; on the contrary, she felt cool as a cucumber and pleased with herself. This just went to show that Kendappa Jikokuten had a dark side, and apparently no problems letting it out to play, for a good cause of course.

Forty minutes later, Taishakuten exited the shop with a spring in his step and a new suit. Ah, it was so nice to be able to afford clothes whose price would have fed a hungry child for weeks. But his appearance took precedence over the riffraff, because–

His tires were completely flat! WTF?! He frantically circled the car, and every single one was completely devoid of air, with puncture wounds on the tops. How _dare _some little hoodlum injure his precious Mercedes? How _dare _they inconvenience the king of the business world and make him pay for new tires? How _dare _God not smite them with lightning before they could vandalize his baby? Why, Taishakuten was God's chosen creation.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the police, with gritted teeth and eyes that looked downright satanic. When the police found this walking dead man, Taishakuten would find a way to get him sent to prison.

.

Three days later, the police had no leads on Kendappa, who was beginning to think that maybe she'd found the way to improve Souma's life. Taishakuten was actually _suffering_, and yeah he took it out on everybody else, but sacrifices had to be made in order for justice to hold sway. And Souma was happy that Taishakuten had had to have his car towed and wait fifty minutes for a cab, since Ashuraou had been busy with Ashura and couldn't come pick up his man. HA!

So Kendappa decided that life would work like this: when Taishakuten hurt Souma, Kendappa would hurt him. If he left Souma alone there would be no karma vengeance, but she wasn't holding her breath for that. This was Taishakuten after all. And as Souma told her what he'd said to her today, over lunch, Kendappa decided that it was time to punish him again.

"He insulted my heritage and gender," Souma sighed, sounding very weary. "He made a nasty comment about how Indian women in particular should know to obey men. Never mind how India's becoming much better about that, especially in the cities, he just thinks I should be wearing a sari and in an arranged marriage since I was ten."

Kendappa frowned and muttered, "What a jerk. Nina, don't worry, I promise you he'll pay somehow."

Souma took this as a Buddhist sentence, not a Souma-protecting vigilante sentence. Personally, she thought karma didn't exist, because just looking at the world gave evidence that yeah, evil won an awful, awful lot. And not just evil, but meanness too. Good people had horrible things happen to them when they'd never hurt anybody, and bad people lived charmed lives when all they'd done was hurt others. And since she didn't believe in the reincarnation angle, the idea of bad past lives setting you up for suffering cut no ice.

But Taishakuten was about to suffer, yay. Kendappa, having the knowledge that he was out of the office right now, strolled on up to see if maybe she could talk her way past Hanranya to mess with something. But the universe was smiling upon her, because Hanranya had chosen that minute to use the restroom. This office was unprotected! And Kendappa, after snooping around in Hanranya's desk, found the key to unlock this "throne room" for revenge.

No time to waste, she thought as she surveyed it. Now, what she had to do was do something unnoticeable at first glance, so bashing his computer apart wouldn't work. Nor would drawing on his diplomas and awards in marker, or dumping the potted palm onto his desk.

So she unscrewed part of his chair, the bolts that held the struts for the seat up. She left them in the screw holes, but when he sat down, his weight would be too much and the seat would plummet downwards, hopefully hurting his stuck-up tailbone. Or if she was _really _lucky, he'd land on the 'nads, bwa-ha-ha!

Once she was finished, she waltzed right back out and strolled down the hallway, passing Hanranya on her way back from the restroom. The secretary smiled and asked, "How are you, Kendappa?"

"Oh, I'm doing great!" she answered with a bright smile, then added, "Workin' hard, just like always."

Two hours later, Taishakuten strode into his office and put his briefcase down on his desk, smirking to himself that his meeting had gone well. Yes, one more intimidated lesser company! He hummed a self-satisfied little tune as he sat down in his chair, wondering if there was anyone in the world as wonderful as he was (surely not).

And the chair collapsed under him, sending him to the floor with a startled yell and a jarring meeting with the carpet. OW! One of his knees had hit his desk, his opposite funnybone had hit the floor, his tailbone had been slightly bruised, and he'd landed wrong so his spine hurt. He shook his dazed head to clear it, hearing a concerned call of, "Sir?! Are you all right?!"

Hanranya rushed in, didn't see him behind the desk, and started to panic before he groaned, "My chair fell apart. Come help me up."

As she obediently assisted her boss, Taishakuten's logical brain went into deep thinking mode. Chairs did not just fall apart like that on their own, with no prior warnings. So he examined the thing, and soon came to the conclusion that the construction was sound, and his fall had been due to four unscrewed screws. Someone had done this on _purpose! _Some miscreant joker had invaded his throne room and played a painful prank, and their head was about to roll.

But who? Who could have done so? He'd locked his office, but perhaps Hanranya had stepped out for a moment and someone had picked the lock. Or they were a member of the janitorial staff and had a key of their own, or maybe they'd just stolen a janitor's key.

As Taishakuten grilled Hanranya about whether or not she'd seen anything suspicious, Kendappa was back in her office and congratulating herself for a job well done. That would teach him!

But no, it didn't. He made no progress on catching her, but he took his bad mood out on Souma, once going so far as to grab her arm in a bruising grip as he yelled at her. Souma complained about this to Kendappa, who then decided that the small stuff wasn't working. He needed _extra _punishment for daring to lay hands on his assistant, and so she took Souma aside one day and confided, "Nina, _I _punctured his tires and unscrewed his chair."

Souma just gazed at her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, and Kendappa rushed on, "I did it for you! He's a horrible, horrible person, and he's even more of a monster than I thought. Nina, he had to pay for what he did to–" she almost said "my beloved", but wimped out and instead said, "–my friend who doesn't deserve to be treated like that."

Souma felt like kissing Kendappa, but firmly reminded herself that it was still possible that this was a straight woman. So instead she hugged her tightly and breathed, "But isn't it dangerous? I mean, what if he finds out?"

"He won't find out," Kendappa said firmly, both to reassure herself and to reassure Souma. She hugged her back, then reluctantly drew away and continued, "It's also kind of a karma thing, for the way he leads a charmed life after being so awful to the world at large. Maybe part of me feels like he needs to suffer."

"You have to be _careful_," Souma urged fervently. "I agree that he needs to suffer, but if he gets wind of what you did you're in huge trouble. But, um," she smirked nastily, "I'm more than willing to deal with the fallout if it means he's getting what's been coming to him for decades. So you have my blessing to keep making his life difficult, and in fact, I'll help cover your tracks."

And so Souma and Kendappa hatched a third punishment for Taishakuten. It was decided to risk the company's safety with a computer-destroying virus or worm… and Kendappa knew just where to get one.

So the very next afternoon, once she'd gotten off work, she drove over to 2284 Royalty Drive, site of band practice and home to three adorable cats, a dermatology resident, and a hacker. Seiryuu's triumph over Wu Mei Fan was known to her, and if he could kill one computer without having his attack infect and kill others, he could do the same to another. All she had to do was convince him to help her, maybe by offering to tip Kisshouten's attention his way.

He answered the door with a cheerful, "Hey Kendappa! Wow, never seen you in a suit before."

"I just got off work," she smiled back as he stepped back to let her in. "Listen, Sei, I need some computer help, pretty desperately. Would you be willing to–?"

"Sure I would," he agreed, leading her over to the study. "C'mon in here, I was just working on a program. Haku's off doing his shelter volunteering thing, so it's you, me, and the cats."

Kendappa blinked in surprise at Seiryuu's desktop: Kisshouten's head and long hair on a frolicking bikini babe's body. He colored a tiny bit when she glanced at him, and weakly protested, "I was just, um, testing out Photoshop. Anyway," he quickly clicked into a different screen, "what exactly were you looking for help with?"

"I was hoping to attack a certain computer, in a way that wouldn't be attacking all the other computers in its network or contacts list," she said airily, like this was an everyday thing to need help with. "Not to steal information, but just to shut it down irreversibly and hopefully lose a bunch of files, again irreversibly. You can do something like that, right?"

"If the legal system asks, no, of course not, what a horrible thing to do," he said with mock horror, then grinned and continued, "But if my pal Eastern General asks, maybe. Who do you have it out for and why?"

Kendappa took a deep breath and revealed, "I want to punish Taishakuten for the way he treats Nina. And everybody else, but mostly my sweet Nina. Oh, like you didn't realize I'm a lesbian before this!" she snapped at his surprised expression.

Seiryuu almost said, "Tenou's going to cry about that," but decided to instead mumble, "It doesn't really matter to me, and if you haven't told anyone, I won't either. As for the worm," he went on, sounding much more confident on this subject, "I've been fiddling with the Blue Dragon Winrar, purely for fun and to see what else I can do. Now, with the new version, it's even harder to detect and now features a death's head with a speech bubble that I can make say anything.

"But Taishakuten's PC is going to be massively protected, so there's a chance this might not get through. Therefore, I propose we send this thing through email, from you. After all, he trusts you, right?" he asked, sitting down at the chair and navigating to another folder.

"He does," she bragged, giving their reflections a thumbs-up. "So how do we get it onto my email without it infecting my computer?"

"Simplest thing ever," he informed her proudly. "I simply attach it to an email to you, with a title like 'Blue Dragon, don't open attachment', and all you have to do is attach it to something of yours. Here's the best part: it's delayed, so it won't immediately ruin his system, and he won't blame you. Brilliant, isn't it?"

"Amazingly so," she sang, and hugged him around the shoulders in her glee.

"Now just so we're clear," Seiryuu smirked, "this didn't come from me, and I don't program worms, and I have no idea about the revenge part, understand?"

"Of course," Kendappa agreed, grinning evilly. "But make sure the death's head says, 'You brought this on yourself!' and that every single file gets eaten alive, okay?"

And so Seiryuu dutifully typed in that message, as they both grinned like pirates catching sight of a nice fat merchant vessel, one captained by a man they couldn't _wait _to throw overboard. Kendappa firmly reminded herself that she still respected his strength and didn't want him _dead_, she just wanted him to pay for his crimes. Was that too much to ask, that Taishakuten's cruelty be in some way punished?

"So when this thing infects his PC," Seiryuu told his pal as he hit "send", "basically it won't come into obvious play. But the next time he turns it on, two minutes in the screen will sputter, display the death's head and its message, then flash bright blue and die forever. Now, this is my best work, and remember, if you do get caught, you don't squeal. Conversely, if _I _get caught, I don't squeal either."

"Understood," she said firmly, nodding her head in conviction. "But we won't get caught, because he'll never suspect you or me in a million years."

.

The very next day, at the morning Senior VP briefing, Taishakuten turned his laptop on for the last time, he just didn't know it yet. Kendappa had sent the virus, he'd opened the attachment and seen nothing amiss, and now, he typed in his password while thinking, _Ha. No one in the world could guess my password: "Arthurbooboo". Well, maybe Karl could since he calls me that, but he would never dream of hacking my laptop._

He conversed with his minions, unaware that one of them was counting in her head. And yep, the second she reached "two minutes", Taishakuten yelled, "HEY!" as his screen flickered, gasped aloud in horror at the death's head, and bellowed, "What is _this?!_" as bright blue nearly blinded him. The silver Warbook then died a noble death, as everybody else looked on in frightened concern.

"Sir? Sir, what's wrong?" Kendappa asked frantically, exercising her acting chops.

Taishakuten jabbed the power button as Bishamonten got up to go see what was going on, and Zouchouten and Koumokuten exchanged worried glances. But no, this was now a hunk of junk instead of one of the fastest and priciest laptops in the world, now only worth what parts could be salvaged. Taishakuten nearly pounded the power button now, as Bishamonten cautiously asked, "Was it some sort of… cyber attack?"

"It _was!_" Taishakuten snarled venomously, slamming the thing shut so hard it would have been damaged if it wasn't already kaput. "There was some sort of – of pirate-y skull graphic, and it spelled out, 'You brought this on yourself!' It was _CHINA!_" he bellowed in fury, making Varuna frantically look around for an escape. "Or Iran! Or North Korea! It had to be!"

"Do you mean a loose cannon hacker from China, Iran, or North Korea, or the ruling respective regimes?" Zouchouten tried. "Sir, the odds of it being state-sponsored are, while still fairly high, not nearly as high as if it's some disgruntled nationalist."

Taishakuten, who had been about to call the White House and demand that the President nuke China, Iran, and North Korea (no differentiation), calmed down a bit and thought. Finally he answered, "I'm not sure. We'll have to have an investigation and find out. In the meantime – Nina! Take this down to IT and see if they can make it work," he barked imperiously, and she nodded obediently and went to do his bidding.

But once in the privacy of the elevator, she burst out laughing. It had worked! BWA-ha-ha-haa! Kudos to the brave Kendappa Jikokuten, and the clever Seiryuu Waters too. This was a _big _punishment. If all the others had been standing in the corner and getting no dessert, this was a months-long grounding, no screen time for the same duration, and still no dessert.

Hours later, Souma found herself chatting up Kumaraten, telling him all about it.

"So now his computer is useless," she said with mock sorrow, since it was safe to do that with the engineer. "He's at his wits' end, and the worst part is, the CIA said they'd take a report but they wouldn't look further into it unless they see a pattern with other companies."

Kumaraten looked almost gleeful for a moment, but quickly summoned a concerned expression as he asked, "Is it really _completely _unsalvageable? I mean, can't he take it down to IT and–?"

"It's doomed, fully and irreversibly," Souma told him, cheering inside her head. "He tried IT, and they said it was ruined. Thankfully he backed up all his business files, but he was fuming that everything personal is gone forever. He looked homicidal, so I wouldn't want to be whichever internet criminal attacked him."

Yes indeed, Taishakuten _was _homicidal. He had lost all his naked Ashuraou pictures! And he was unlikely to get any more anytime soon, as Ashuraou had had to be plied with alcohol and basically coerced into posing for them. He had been mad about it when he remembered what he'd done, and lectured his partner on the dangers of hackers finding them and spreading them to the media. For his part, he was relieved they were gone.

This was all unbeknownst to Souma and Kumaraten, though. They glanced around, saw no eavesdroppers, then exchanged mean smiles that said, "Ha-ha! He's finally suffering! YAY!"

"Well Nina," he said firmly, "you have to be on your guard, since he's going to take it out on you, that's how he works. But I think if you just recall his 'priceless' expression, you'll be able to bear it."

"Indeed I will."

And later that day, Souma found herself thinking, _This makes me more convinced than ever that Kendappa is My Lady. Her valiant passive-aggression in my defense makes me want to sweep her into my arms and smooch the living daylights out of her! If only she'd done it because she loves me, but at least I know she likes me an awful lot. We're pals, and one fine day, she'll fall in love with me too._

.

And now, let's look in on Tenou. As Souma was sniggering inside her head, and Kendappa was upbraiding Zachary for yet another mistake, and Taishakuten was telling Bishamonten to "annihilate the dead man walking who attacked me with no provocation", Tenou was making himself a sandwich for lunch. Mmm, it was gonna be a _good _sandwich, piled high with bacon and smoked turkey, vine-ripe tomatoes, crisp lettuce, and sharp cheddar cheese, slathered with tasty chipotle mayo, and all on healthy cracked wheat bread.

And it _was_ a good sandwich, he contentedly thought as he munched it. Why bother going to buy one when he could make something just as delicious at home? He actually thought it was better than Subway or something, as he hadn't forgotten the frantic fast-food eating required when one was in college. Sure he could've afforded a nice sit-down meal many times over, but he hadn't had the time. But now, home for the summer with no job to go to, he had the "luxury" of homemade meals.

Shashi thought this was cute. Bishamonten thought this was silly. Why bother preparing something for yourself and having to deal with the cleanup, when you could spend a little more dough and make somebody else work? Oh well, Bishamonten was somewhat spoiled, Tenou thought in fond exasperation.

Then an idea occurred to the redheaded rocker: why didn't he make some cookies or something for Kendappa? YEAH! Hakuryuu kept making brownies for Kisshouten, and Shashi made Bishamonten his favorite meal sometimes just to make him smile (and pay her back in bed, but their son was mercifully unaware of that part). Tenou knew how to make wonderful chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, and when he presented them to Kendappa, she would take one bite and realize that they were made with love.

So he cleared his place, dutifully put the dishes in the dishwasher, and was just reaching for "The Mr. Mom's House Baking Book" when his doorbell rang. Now who could that be? Might it be… Kendappa?

No, she was at work, he realized with a frown. Well, maybe it was Ryuu! Ryuu was fun too, so Tenou smiled as he opened the door, all set to see his drummer pal.

That smile turned forced as he saw who was on his front steps. Tamara Koumokuten waved at him, wearing pink slut clothes and tons of makeup, and trilled, "Hi Tenoooou! I was in the neighborhood so I had Becca swing by."

Tenou looked over her shoulder, and yup, there was a limo in front of his house. Before he could think how spoiled Tamara was, she rushed on, "Isn't it a beautiful, beautiful day? The sun's almost as bright as your smile," she giggled, making that smile turn even more forced.

He made himself say cheerfully, "How nice. So, um, Tamara, how are you?"

"Tenou," she simpered, "I had to come over and see you because I watched the most _romantic _movie, and all I could think about was you and me! Let's go take a walk in a park and be together, because it's time for me to confess what I should've confessed years ago: Tenou, I _love_ you!" she proclaimed, fluttering her lashes and pouting her lips ever so slightly.

He took a deep breath, bit the bullet, and did something long overdue: he said firmly, "I'm sorry Tamara, but I'm not at all attracted to you, and I want you to leave me alone, please." There, he'd finally done it!

She just stared blankly at him for a few seconds, before she shook her head violently, grabbed his shoulders, and pleaded, "But you _have _to love me! Or else – or else my life is in shambles!"

Uh-oh. He tried to think up a good response to that, and came up with, "I don't want your life to be in shambles believe me, but I just don't love you, and it would be lying to myself and you if I pretended I did. I'm really sorry, but I can't lie to both of us."

"WAAAAHHH!" she wailed, collapsing to her knees dramatically. She didn't hide her face in her hands though, the better for him to see how upset she was. As he wondered how best to handle this, she upped the melodrama because that was pretty much all she could do. How could the love of her life reject her like this?! It wasn't _fair!_

Tenou awkwardly lied, "Um, I still think you're a nice person." Then he told the truth and said, "But you see, I'm in love with Kendappa Jikokuten."

Tamara seized his lower leg and cried, "I'll give you more than that bitch Kendappa! What's so special about her anyway?! What does she have that _I _don't have, and she doesn't even wear _skirts!_" she howled, like this made Kendappa some sort of non-female entity that just happened to have boobs and such.

"Well, she, uh–"

"You can take me right now!" Tamara babbled, making his mouth drop open in shock. "I mean it, I'd do anything for you! Let me in and I'll–"

"Please no!" he hastily replied, prying her arms off a little roughly in his fear. "Tamara, listen, I don't want to sleep with you, and if you try to grope me I'll tell my dad. So please, let me go, and I'm sure somewhere out there is a man who'll love you like you deserve to be loved, because I can't give you that," he tried, erring on the side of nobility.

He should have erred on the side of bluntness and a threat of legal action, because she grabbed his leg again and told him, "But if you let yourself, you _can _fall in love with me! If you let me in, I promise I'll–"

"I said 'no'," he reminded her snappishly, getting very annoyed now. "I can't love you. Please, leave me alone!"

And this time it worked. She let go, got to her feet, and fled back to the limo while upping the drama-laden wailing, making him feel a horrible sense of guilt. But he should've done something like this long before, and if he had, maybe she wouldn't be as hurt. As it was, though, he was bracing himself for Koumokuten to show up at the door in an hour or so, and bellow, "You hurt my little Princess's feelings, you [blankity-blank-blank] little brat! I'll get revenge on you, this I swear!"

So Tenou shut the door, locked all the locks, and practiced his guitar as loudly as possible, so it would be plausible that he didn't hear the doorbell. As he imitated Angus Young's opening solo for "Thunderstruck", he couldn't help but wonder if he should call his dad at work and ask him to come home early, thus protecting him. Or Shashi! Shashi would be more than a match for Koumokuten too. Actually, she'd be the _best _match, because she'd have no compunction about kicking him in the crotch if needed, and Bishamonten would.

But thankfully, no crotch-kicking would be required. Koumokuten was at that moment listening to Tamara bawl over the phone, making soothing noises and thinking to himself, _Awright! He turned her down, now she can finally get over him. Good, I won't have to deal with Shashi as Tamara's mother-in-law after all!_

.

The next day, as Souma pressed the button for the elevator after lunch, she admitted something to herself: expecting Kendappa to pick up on her hints of affection didn't seem to be working. Ironically enough, Kendappa was at that moment thinking something similar, still down in the cafeteria. Yes, the bushes were being beaten around, and Kujaku, Karura, Yasha, Zouchouten, Bishamonten, and even Koumokuten had formed a pool over when they would get their acts together.

This all went over Kendappa and Souma's heads, although Kendappa _was _aware that Souma checked her out every so often. Souma for her part often wondered if Kendappa was doing the same, only to be distracted by yet another Taishakuten demand. Jerkwad.

So now, as she stepped into the elevator, she thought to herself, _I don't know what to do. I've never felt this way about anyone else in my entire life. Part of me wants to drag her into a deserted room and pull an Ellen and Aaron, and the other part is so scared of rejection. If I can't be with her, I don't know what'll happen to me._

Kisshouten's words then ran through her head: _"If you never confess, you'll never be with her for sure."_

_Well, yes, but I mean, what if I've been reading far too much into our friendship? What if I do confess, and she turns me down and gets scared of me? That happens, it's happened to me before, where you tell someone you're interested in them but they had no idea and don't think of you that way, and then they wonder if it's wise to stay around you._

Mental Kisshouten gave her a maternal smile and urged, "_But if she says 'yes', how happy will you be? She's Your Lady, there's no sense denying that, and if you two get together, your life will be complete. Do it, Nina!"_

But the specter of Annmarie, the woman who'd turned her down and ended contact as soon as she could, sneered, _"If she turns you down, you don't even get to be her friend anymore. Keep your mouth shut, or you'll wish you had."_

Souma sighed, walking down the hallway and unlocking Taishakuten's door with sluggish, near-mindless movements. Yes, that was very true, so the thing to do was keep being a great friend, and maybe, just maybe, Kendappa would pull her aside and confess, "Nina, I'm in love with you! Let's leave this stupid company and move to Barbados, just you, me, and maybe a cat or something."

She opened the door, and all thoughts of Kendappa were driven out of her head as she gasped aloud at what she saw. Taishakuten was in his boss chair behind his desk, that was normal, but he was flushed and with his tie askew. On his desk was a supine Hanranya, with her head towards the door, her hair hanging off the edge and her glasses set to the side (they were fogged up). She too was flushed, and looked incredibly, incredibly happy.

She was, to put it delicately, not wearing the full attire of an executive secretary. Nor was Taishakuten wearing the full attire of a CEO, judging by the pants on the floor, eek! Yet neither of them shrieked and in Hanranya's case hid behind Taishakuten; nope, Hanranya waved a satiated hand with a supremely relaxed smile on her face, and Taishakuten gave Souma a glance that said, "And?"

He straightened his tie and said casually, "Well Hanranya, now that I've shown you my appreciation for all of your hard work, hopefully you'll stop bothering me. And not a word of this to Karl or anyone, understand? If you tell any of this story to someone else, you're fired and blacklisted. Now stop gazing at me with glazed and grateful eyes and get back to work."

Souma just gaped as she'd been doing since she'd walked in, but Hanranya nodded feverishly and said happily, "_Thank _you, sir! I'll work even harder now, Mr. Taishakuten sir!"

"Nina, do go away," Taishakuten snapped, sending her a glare. "I don't think you want to see me stand up. And if _you _tell anyone either, I'll not only fire and blacklist you but get you arrested on a charge of – of something, I'm sure I can come up with a believable crime."

Souma hastily nodded with a grimace on her face, whipped around, and marched right back out, closing the door behind her. Oh God, sex in the CEO's office! Taishakuten shouldn't be _allowed _to do something that fun here! And didn't Hanranya realize how much he'd just used her? He'd basically told her to leave him alone and ask nothing more of him, and if banging someone and ordering no more romantic contact wasn't using them, she didn't know what was.

For the rest of the day, Souma had to use all her skill in acting and self-restraint when interacting with her boss. It was even harder than before to pretend to be loyal, when all she wanted to do was scream, "You took _advantage _of that poor smitten woman! I pray to God you used protection, because if she ends up pregnant that child will be the Antichrist! Our world is only intact because there's only one of you!"

The "poor" smitten Hanranya, however, seemed to be downright thrilled that she'd been taken advantage of. She sang songs under her breath, songs like Smash Mouth's "Can't Get Enough Of You Baby" and Rihanna's "Drunk On Love", neither of which Souma would've expected her to know. "Scary Seering" viewed the whole thing as a gift from above, and she'd remember every glorious second of it until her dying minute. Taishakuten had fulfilled her dream for her life – or as close as he could get when he was in a committed relationship, anyway. So no they'd never be together in the boyfriend/girlfriend sense, but they'd certainly been together in the _physical_ sense!

For his part, Taishakuten operated as if this were just another day. When she popped in to tell him she was leaving for the night, he merely waved a hand without looking up. And once he left too, he thought of pork chops, which Ashuraou had said they'd be having for dinner tonight.

And yes, when Taishakuten got back to his "castle", AKA his ludicrously opulent McMansion, Ashuraou was in the kitchen, wearing an autographed "Mr. Mom's House" apron and slicing off the fat from those pork chops. Taishakuten would have preferred it if he were only wearing the apron, but oh well, maybe sometime when Ashura was gone he could convince him to do that. He hugged him from behind and greeted, "Hello there, Karl dearest."

"Hey, Arthurbooboo. Anything interesting happen at work today?" Ashuraou asked casually, with no suspicion whatsoever in regards to what had happened on Taishakuten's desk.

"No, not really. The most interesting thing was when I saw a man trip up in his presentation and get laughed at," Taishakuten replied, fully believing this.

After all, his tryst with Hanranya had meant absolutely nothing to him, so why bother bringing it up? He told himself that it wasn't _cheating_, it was a purely physical power play, and it had worked. No longer would she bother him, because she'd just remember the desk with great happiness. So surely it had been all right, because after all, he'd been thinking of Ashuraou the whole time so it didn't really count as infidelity.

This was most hypocritical, because if Ashuraou had done the same thing, Taishakuten would've hunted his partner down and beaten them to death, then screamed at him for hours and possibly smacked him around a bit. But as it was, Ashuraou would never know what his man had done, and Taishakuten would put it out of his mind with ease. He'd convinced himself it was fine, and so it would be.

"Why don't you go change into the _special _pants," Ashuraou smiled, and Taishakuten nodded and grinned, "All right."

Cool, it was time to wear the leather pants and nothing else! Partially because he liked to look sexy, partially because _Ashuraou_ liked him to look sexy, and partially because Ashura hated it when Taishakuten looked sexy. Yup, Taishakuten had let his homoerotic exhibitionist side out to play, and he was having lots of fun with it, not least because Ashura unfailingly freaked out when he encountered such a sight. Stupid abominable brat, if he didn't made such a fuss his enemy wouldn't do it so often.

Ashura, who had heard the "_special_ pants" bit from his seat at the kitchen table, glowered and once again considered how much of a punishment he'd net himself if he were to cut those stupid pants into little strips. He'd use a sharp kitchen knife and a cutting board, and yeah it would take a lot of effort, but it would be worth it!

On top of the stairs, Shuratou was panting and drooling, as she was wont to do. There was a small lake of dog saliva steadily inching closer to the edge of the first step, and she didn't notice. Instead, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and they were not her boy's footsteps, nor the nice man's.

True Taishakuten had never succeeded in hitting her thanks to Ashuraou, but he yelled and made violent motions that she had realized might one day connect "by accident". If so she'd bite his ankle and crush it, but it was just better to avoid him and chew his stuff up when he was gone. So she got up and walked down the hallway to Ashura's room, unconcerned about what she'd left at such a dangerous place, on a hardwood floor (Taishakuten's realtor had said it was in right now, so he'd approved).

Taishakuten came ever closer, humming a little tune to the words in his head. They were these: "I love Karl – Hanranya doesn't matter – Karl is so hot – Hanranya's mad as a hatter"… and repeat.

And then, came the shattering of his thoughts.

He unknowingly set his foot upon the pool of slobber, slipped like something out of a "Three Stooges" sketch, and with a girly scream was falling back down the stairs, hitting each step with a "Thud!" and ending with a horrible "_CRACK!"_ at the bottom, accompanied by a howl of pure agony. Yes, his right leg had been broken along the tibia, and it was the single most painful experience of his life.

"Arthur?! Are you okay?!" Ashuraou's frantic voice came from the kitchen, and he rushed in to see Taishakuten sobbing like a little child, as Ashura poked his head around the corner and thought, _YAY! Something good happened!_

Shuratou galloped down the hallway and down the stairs, stopping on the landing to bark happily. Hey, Taishakuten was making noise, why not join in?

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Taishakuten screamed, as Ashura's eyes widened in fear and surprise. "KARL! _Kill the_ _dog!_ She made me – aaah, it hurts!"

"Is it broken?" Ashuraou asked as calmly as he could. "Arthur, deep breaths, you're going to be–"

"I want the dog's head! ASHURA! This is _your _fault!" Taishakuten bellowed, pointing a furious finger at him. "Your dog, your fault! Karl, lock the boy in the basement and don't let him out until he's sixteen! Shoot the dog and have her stuffed and–"

"NOOOO!" Ashura wailed, bounding over Taishakuten's prone form and up the stairs to his German Shepherd, then throwing his arms around her as he bawled, "Daddy, nooo! Don't shoot my puppy!"

"I'm not shooting anyone," Ashuraou said firmly, making Taishakuten snarl wordlessly. "What we're going to do is this. Ashura, you're going to put Shuratou in your room, and then you're going to call 911 for an ambulance. Arthur, you're going to hold my hand and squeeze as hard as you need to, and take deep, calming breaths. This was an accident, and the more riled up you get the worse off you'll be. Okay everyone?"

"Okay," Ashura said gratefully, and grabbed his dog's collar to lead her to his room.

"How could this happen?" Taishakuten gritted out, seizing Ashuraou's hand and squeezing like he was squeezing Ashura's neck. "HOW?! I'm Arthur Taishakuten, and my life is charmed! …Except for the past month," he growled, and wondered why these terrible occurrences had been visited upon his flawless self.

There were a couple explanations for that. The first ones, of course, were that he had pissed off a protective Kendappa for the car tires, chair, and cyber attack, and Shuratou had drooled in the wrong place. But might there, in fact, be more to these events? Had his bad karma finally caught up to him, for his brutal business ways, his hit to a politician, his driving of Souma's dad to insanity, his driving of others to suicide, and his despicable ways of treating everyone except Ashuraou?

Maybe the universe had decided that it was high time that Arthur Taishakuten paid for his crimes, because no one in their right mind could say that he didn't deserve to be punished for his evil acts. Or maybe it _was_ bad luck, but if there was an afterlife, Senator Allison Wellsprings, Martha Braithwhite, and Jesús Rodriguez were looking down and cheering at this. Heck, they were high-fiving and dancing a jig.

.

The next day, the population of the skyscraper was stunned when their CEO hobbled into the lobby on a pair of crutches, with a cast, an ankle boot, and a glare so evil, the security reached for their guns before they knew what they were doing. Well, the population save the Senior VPs, their assistants, and Kujaku was stunned, since Taishakuten had called Bishamonten from the hospital, and informed him that he'd been "brought down by that rock-headed canine Ashura keeps." Bishamonten had then called everybody else of note, stopping midway through telling Yasha the news to snap, "Shashi, it's not funny! Stop snickering!"

Souma surreptitiously cornered Kendappa in the ladies' room and whispered, "I feel like buying the dog a whole oven-roasted chicken or something in thanks."

"Well, the bones might get stuck in her throat, but maybe if we picked the meat off we could reward her," Kendappa smirked, ever the practical one. "Nina, you know, maybe I should pull back. After all, this is a punishment more major than the computer, even."

"That might be wise," Souma nodded, with a contemplative look on her face. "No sense making ourselves targets, because he's being extra careful now. He's almost paranoid."

She spoke the truth: Taishakuten had instructed his chauffeur to drive "as if all the other cars are out to get you"; had Hanranya inspect his office for booby traps; told Bishamonten, "Some dastardly force has it out for me"; and lectured his Senior VPs that they could be next, because surely if he was under attack his minions would be too. After all, they were less impressive but loyal servants of his. He was furious that so many awful things had been happening to him, but he'd decided to take whatever precautions he could.

Both Souma and Kendappa recalled his rant, and Souma said cheerfully, "He's losing it. Kendappa, just think how distressed he must be in his little sociopath mind, realizing that he's not a god and the universe doesn't always work the way he wants it to."

"How awful it must be," Kendappa said with exaggerated, sarcastic sorrow, "to realize he's human just like the rest of us poor mortals."

They grinned at each other, and something happened in Souma's mind. This something was Kisshouten popping up, beating her over the head with a length of wood labeled "Confession Time!" and yelling, _"Are you going to dance around your love for this woman for your entire life?! Nina Roberta Souma, if you don't confess right now I'm going to sic my beaus on you! They'll play Nine Inch Nails chords right in your ear while you're sleeping, so woman up and confess! CONFESS!"_

Hmm, she was starting to sound like a Spanish Inquisitor, or maybe a witch-hunter, or possibly even arabid prosecuting lawyer. Point was, Mental Kisshouten wanted Souma to confess her love. Okay, great plan, but how to nudge the conversation in that direction? Just blurting out, "I love you," wasn't the way to go.

Kendappa, who had been waiting for a response for a while, frowned a little bit as she asked, "Are you okay? Your eyes got all wide and you look all serious. Is something wrong, Nina?"

"No. Nope. Uh-uh. Nooo! Nopers – well, yes," Souma admitted, rubbing a hand against the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Kendappa immediately turned concerned, with a question of, "What is it? Can I help?"

Okay, time to gently break some ground here. Souma thought fast and came up with, "You know, I saw Charles hit on a pizza delivery guy yesterday, and this other man just gave him a _disgusted _look. You know, sometimes he makes me ashamed that I'm, well, gay."

Kendappa felt like she'd just been handed the winning lottery ticket, and tried to confirm, "You? A lesbian? Really?"

"Yes," Souma went on, much more confident now. "I am a lesbian. I don't suppose, um–"

Kendappa was just opening her mouth to sing, "So am I!" and ask Souma if she found her attractive, when the door of the restroom slammed open and Hanranya sighed, "So that's where you are, Nina. Taishakuten needs you immediately, he's in a tizzy. You'd better go before things get harder for you."

Souma immediately told Kendappa, "To be continued," and ran off, as Kendappa sent Hanranya a glare so evil, it was like she was a different woman. Her eyes were narrowed, and if Hanranya could read auras, Kendappa's would have been like an ice blade, one she was willing to impale her opponent with. The secretary gulped, then managed a weak, "Just following orders, Ms. Jikokuten."

"Yes, yes. You follow his orders for everything, don't you," Kendappa nearly sneered, Souma having whispered to her all about the desk. Hanranya flushed a bit, decided that there was no possible way Kendappa could know about that most marvelous, thrilling, and clandestine tryst with her beloved sociopath, and muttered something like, "He's my boss."

Kendappa, realizing that she was making herself suspicious, immediately quit with the General of the Eastland glare and replied, "Yeah. Mine too. I was just talking to Nina about something really important."

"What could be more important than Taishakuten?" Hanranya asked in disbelief.

_My woman, four eyes. Nina! My black-clad babe with the sexy short skirts, the one who's got the same sexuality I do and likes me an awful lot, and I was just about to confess when you made her leave!_

But she held her tongue and instead responded with, "Just something personal, it doesn't concern you. Well, I guess I should be getting back to my office," she sighed, turning to go with a crestfallen look on her face, and a thought that maybe Hanranya needed to be punished too.

Her day was rife with thoughts of, _Do I hunt her down and tell her I love her? Or is it just my bad luck that she's a lesbian but doesn't love me? If I tell her, will she get all red and mumble, "I'm sorry, but I don't feel that way about you"? Damn it all, why can't everybody wear their hearts on their sleeves? It would make this so much easier._

By the time she showed up for band practice that evening, she was a bit frazzled around the edges. She barely noticed when Tenou passed out cookies, insisting that she take the first ones. She barely noticed when Seiryuu and Ryuu gave each other "This won't end well" looks at the cookie offering. She barely noticed when she messed up song after song. And when Hakuryuu sighed, "I think you should go get some rest, your mind's obviously somewhere else," she nodded frantically and agreed, "Good idea."

"Let me help you with your keyboard," Tenou immediately and eagerly offered, and so unsuspecting, she smiled absently at him and agreed, "Okay. That's nice of you."

As Tenou helped her lug the keyboard out to her car, she thought to herself, _He's so nice. I hope someday he finds a cute wife who loves him. _Yup, if there were such things as little floating commentary arrows, the one pointed at her would be labeled, "Dense". And the one pointed at Tenou would be labeled, "Poor sap".

Tenou was psyching himself up as they walked down the sidewalk. It was time to be a _man _and ask his dream woman out, and then she'd look into his eyes and gasp, "Oh Tenou, yes! Yes, let's go out and get married at a later date! You're my ideal man, and your parents will be startled at first, but soon they'll come around because they'll be able to see how much we love each other."

Yeah. Yeah! And the rest of the band could play the wedding reception, and that nice Souma could be the maid of honor (Tenou knew she and Kendappa were close, and he liked her a lot too), and Tamara might throw a fit but surely she'd get over it. And Zouchouten would say something like, "Well Tenou, congratulations! I see my earlier warnings about your perfect woman not returning your feelings were incredibly off the mark."

She opened her trunk, he gallantly hoisted the keyboard inside, and then she smiled, "Thanks Tenou. Well, I've gotta go now, so–"

"Please don't go!" he pleaded, and as her face adopted a look of confusion he said frantically, "I have something_ really_ important to ask you."

He took her hand and a deep breath, and queried softly, "Would you go out to dinner with me, please? I love you," he babbled before she could reply, dropping to one knee in his urgency. "I've loved you since I saw you, and I can't think about anyone else."

Kendappa stared down at him, her mouth hanging open and her mind suddenly panicked. Oh gods, she'd completely missed this! She'd thought he'd just been being friendly, and it had never crossed her mind that all those smiles and compliments had meant something more. She didn't love him back, not at all, and while she didn't want to hurt his feelings in the least, she couldn't let him think there was the slightest possibility that she'd ever come to return those feelings.

So she gently lifted his fingers off her hand, and as his face fell she said sadly, "Oh Tenou, you know I like you so much as a friend, but I don't love you. I _can't_, because you see, I'm a lesbian and – and I'm in love with Nina."

For a moment he stared blankly at her, unable to comprehend this. A _lesbian? _But – but the universe wouldn't be so cruel as to send a good person a love interest who was incapable of returning their feelings, right? If Arthur "I'm A Conceited Dick" Taishakuten got to live with and love his object of affection, why not Tenou "Super Nice" Prince-Bishamonten? Heck, he wasn't asking for them to fly down to Las Vegas and get hitched tonight, all he'd wanted was a dinner and time to take it slow!

"_Just be forewarned that even if you find your perfect mate, she may be completely uninterested," _Zouchouten intoned in his head, even though he hadn't said it in a dirge-like voice then. Nor had he been wearing somber clothes, and the room hadn't been gloomy, and it hadn't been raining outside the windows, but that was how poor Tenou remembered it now. And it had taken on an epic, foreshadowing quality: basically, Zouchouten had warned him and he hadn't realized then how true it would be.

For a moment, he felt tears start to gather in his eyes as he knelt there, his hands hanging limply at his sides as Kendappa bit her lip in dream-destroying guilt. Oh God, why? Getting rejected was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to him, save those weeks when Bishamonten had cut off all contact after finding out who he and Tenou were.

And then, Tenou had a thought. This thought was not, _I should get rid of Nina, _or anything mean and stupid like that, because Kendappa was after all a lesbian. No, this thought was actually hopeful: _Maybe I was wrong._

Maybe Kendappa _wasn't _his ideal woman! He would probably always have feelings for her, but perhaps the universe was telling him, "See? She's not meant for you. What you need to do is put yourself out there and try to find your actual dream woman, who we cross our hearts and hope to die will love you back. If Taishakuten has a soulmate, so do you, Tenou Lloyd Prince-Bishamonten."

So he blinked his eyes to get rid of the moisture, got to his feet a bit shakily, and then did something that startled Kendappa to no end. He gave her a weak smile and told her, "Well, then I hope Nina will make you happy."

Kendappa blinked too, but hers was in surprise. It was good that he wasn't bawling and grabbing her leg, but she hadn't expected him to take this so well. Maybe he was a more mature person than that, and had accepted one of life's great truths: "You can't always get want you want," as the Rolling Stones had said so well.

She told him awkwardly, "So do I. Um, listen, thank you, and you know I'm sorry for hurting you. But, um, see… I haven't actually _told _her yet, and while I _think _she might feel the same way I can't know for sure."

"Yes you can," he gently deadpanned. "All you have to do is confess. I mean, I did, and now I know. If I'd maybe done this a long time ago, it probably wouldn't hurt so much," he sighed, running hand over his hair in a "C'est la vie" manner.

She suddenly grinned at him and complimented, "You're so smart. I guess it's better to just know once and for all than to speculate on it. Endlessly. All the time. Concocting little love scenarios and dreaming about her, and thinking back in forth in my head, 'She loves, me she loves me not.'"

Tenou, who had de-petaled an endless number of flowers (he'd often cheated by counting the petals and only playing that time-honored game with odd-numbered ones), nodded in agreement and urged, "I mean, yeah, it really _sucks_ when when you come up empty-handed, but at least there's some kind of closure. Or will be, eventually," he muttered, wondering how many crying jags he'd have to endure before he let Kendappa go.

Whoops, there came the guilt again, Kendappa realized. But what could she in all fairness do? Lie to him and herself, and pretend to love someone she'd never had the slightest bit of attraction to? Thank gods this was America in the 2010s, not America in the 1810s (or numerous other parts of the world in the 2010s), when she would've had to get married whether she liked it or not. That would've been awful, and she'd probably end up hating him just because she hated her situation. Well, that and sex would've been an ordeal.

So she thought about patting his shoulder, thought better of it, and replied, "You're so right. Tenou, I solemnly swear that tonight, I will march over to Nina's house and confess!"

Part of Tenou's soul sobbed at that, but the rest of him smiled and said, "Good. You have my hopes that it goes well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to–" _take my broken heart and start to heal, _"–head home."

He gave her one last wave as he turned to go back into the house, and stopped short at what he saw in the doorway. Ryuu, Hakuryuu, Seiryuu, and Drew were all poking their heads around the doorframe: Ryuu on the bottom (nearly on the floor, he had to be kneeling), Drew above him, Seiryuu above _him_, and Hakuryuu on top. They'd obviously been eavesdropping, and as Tenou started to glare they all turned red and hastily pulled their heads back out of sight.

Tenou considered stomping up the sidewalk, but no, that was needlessly aggressive. Instead he held his head high as he walked with stately steps back into the house and down to the music room, where the rest had fled.

"No doubt you all heard everything," he said calmly as he entered that room, to see them pretending to fiddle with their instruments. "And what I have to say is this: that was rude, but I've decided that I'll overcome this. After all, forcibly dating a lesbian is downright cruel."

Ryuu blew out a huge sigh of relief, and said gratefully, "Sorry, man. We won't do it again."

Other apologies were made and accepted, and as Tenou picked his guitar case up and went home, he thought to himself, _It was probably phenomenal entertainment: "Lovestruck Young Man Gets Shot Down by Lesbian". Sounds like a reality show, or something._

He opened the door, dutifully locked it behind him, set his guitar back down where it belonged, and half-walked, half-trudged into the kitchen. It was time to talk to his parents about this, and that would help. But they weren't in the kitchen, nor the study or living room, or the basement even, so they had to be upstairs. He mounted the stairs with a rather curious gait, because all the other times when he'd come home from band practice they were on the main floor. Well, it _was _a couple hours earlier than usual.

Muffled voices were coming from their bedroom door. First, Bishamonten:

"Ah, I see _someone's _getting some use out of the 'Sexy Siren' lingerie I gave her last week. Ruby, isn't it wonderful how Tenou's band practice lasts for hours?"

Then Shashi:

"Tee-hee! Indeed it is, sexykins. I feel I should thank his hoodlum friends for occupying him, so we don't have to wait until he's in bed to do things like this. …Reginald! That button almost hit me in the eye!" she snarled, after the sound of ripping cloth and little hard objects pattering to the floor.

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" Bishamonten said frantically, as Tenou wondered if he should go into his room and get his headphones, or go back downstairs and read for a while. Clearly, his parents had no idea he was around, and he _really _didn't want to hear them say something like–

"You idiot! Be _careful _around your wife! You'd think the time you smacked me in the face with your tie would have taught you that you have to undress civilly!" Shashi bitched, and Tenou thought that maybe conjugal activities had been curtailed and all was well.

"But I'm sorry. I told you I was sorry. Perhaps I should… _show _you that I'm sorry?" That was said in a very suggestive tone, oh dear.

"Well. Reginald, you'd better be prepared to do exactly as I say, or I'll have to get mad again and punish you."

"Oh, I _love it _when you talk like a villainous queen," Bishamonten said in a low, breathy, and enthralled voice, and Tenou decided that he would go downstairs and read. After all, if he went into his room they'd hear the door open, and then they'd realize that he'd heard something. Then there would be the most awkward dinner ever, so best to pretend that he had no idea what they did when he was at band practice.

He moved off as quietly as he could, read Hitler's SS: The Baddies the World Justifiably Despises, and finally, an hour and fifty-six minutes later, Bishamonten and Shashi came back downstairs, not a hair out of place and in fact freshly showered. They smiled at him, he smiled at them, and he couldn't help but wonder, _How many times have I come home to parents who just finished having sex, and I never knew?_

"How was your day, Tenou?" Bishamonten asked pleasantly. "Did you have a nice band practice?"

"Um, no. And my day was fine, until band practice," he sighed, and as their faces turned concerned he rushed on, "See, I'm in love with Kendappa, and I asked her out, and she turned me down because she's a lesbian and she's in love with Nina," he semi-babbled, slumping in his chair.

His parents' reactions were pretty similar. Bishamonten was wide-eyed and stunned, since he hadn't picked up on the fact that his son had a thing for Kendappa. Shashi was also wide-eyed and stunned, since she hadn't picked up on the fact that Kendappa was a lesbian. They stared at their offspring, who was turning pink in embarrassment but had no tears in evidence, just a resigned twist to his mouth.

Bishamonten was of two opposed minds about this. The first one wanted to soothe, "Tenou, Kendappa is eight years older and a lesbian anyway. You're too good for her, and in time, you'll find someone else who will appreciate all you have to give. Besides, I can't have my colleague dating my son."

The second mind wanted to roar, "What?! That upstart turned you _down?! _Who does she think she is, blowing off your feelings like that? I'll get her fired for the way she hurt you! Where's my most deadly weapon: my smartphone?"

As Reasonable Bishamonten grappled with Daddy Bishamonten, Shashi hugged Tenou around the shoulders and sighed, "I'm sorry, honey. It always hurts when you lose someone you love. At the same time sweetheart, she did the right thing, because she's in love with someone else and didn't want to hurt you any more."

"Yes," Bishamonten nodded, having gone with Reasonable over Daddy. "Tenou, Kendappa probably had no idea whatsoever that you liked her so much, and no doubt feels awful about having to turn you down."

"Yeah. She was super surprised," Tenou sighed in reply. "And she was really nice about it, not mean at all. She _did _feel really bad, and that makes it easier, but it still hurts. But you know," he said firmly, rallying a bit, "it's not the end of the world. I mean, there's someone else out there for me, there just _has _to be!"

"Yes there is," Shashi and Bishamonten said in perfect unison, and Shashi added, "Honey, she's not meant for you. But somewhere out there, _someone_ is!"

Wow, that was profound… not. But Tenou didn't think of it like that. He just nodded firmly and agreed, "And when I find that someone, I'm going to pay real close attention to the things she does, to make sure she's not a lesbian and finds me attractive too."

"Good job, son," Bishamonten praised, paternally patting Tenou on the shoulder. "See? You'll get through this. After all, you're _our _child."

.

As Tenou was reading chapter three ("Heinrich Himmler: Toady for the Ages"), Kendappa was putting her keyboard back in its usual place and patting her harp absentmindedly. She had a brief, enjoyable vision of lugging the harp into work and playing a romantic selection for Souma tomorrow, but she couldn't wait that long.

Nope, no more beating around the bush! As soon as she took care of the mail, because it was good to be on top of your mail, she would drive to Souma's house and confess her love. She knew where her beloved lived, having been invited over there once for a party, and with the magic of GPS she'd find it easily. And when Souma opened that door, Kendappa would waltz into her house and tell her, "Dear Nina Souma, I love you fondly, dearly, disinterestedly, devotedly," because classic literature references were always a winner.

And Souma would cry, "Oh Kendappa! My heart beats faster when you walk in the room! I adore you too, and I want to be with you forever. Your strength and kindness make my knees weak, and those loops in your hair make me all _hot_."

As Kendappa's mind wandered down a path of sexy fun, she got the mail on autopilot and carried it into her study. After standing at her desk for a full three minutes while thinking of Souma, she finally snapped out of it and perused the mail.

Solicitation, solicitation, solicitation. "Ms." Magazine, cool. Solicitation, solicitation, solicitation, and again times three. A letter with exotic stamps and postmarked "Nepal"–

Hey, a letter from Jikokuten! She grinned and opened it eagerly, since it had been a while since he'd written one of these. He had to write them surreptitiously and bribe a novice to deliver them to the post office, and while email would've worked much better, he had no access to a computer. But Darrel – sorry, Dhrtarastra – Jikokuten persevered, and it was always one of the highlights of Kendappa's month when she got a letter from her dad.

Her last letters had dealt mostly with Souma, and the last one had mentioned Taishakuten's _awful _luck in getting his tires slashed (she hadn't mentioned that she'd been the culprit), plus Margaret's Yasha fetish. It was time to see what he had to say about all that.

"Dear Kendappa," the letter began, "I hope this writing finds you well. I myself am quite happy, having broken through a meditative block. Unfortunately, my roommates still snore, all of them. Thank you for the new earplugs, they really help.

"I am not surprised that Arthur Taishakuten has finally begun to reap what he has sown from the universe. Into each life, a little rain must fall, particularly if one has seeded the clouds to his extent. But I warn you not to take personal joy in his tribulations, as such a thing is harmful to both you and him. Remember, hate poisons the hater.

"I am also not surprised that you have found your soulmate, as you wrote to me last time. For the great majority of humanity, it is inevitable that we find someone we really love. Monks eschew love, or are supposed to at any rate, but you know that I think love is one of the most joyous and spiritual experiences one can have. I urge you to make your love known, and who knows: perhaps you and Nina were partners in a past life, that could very well be the case. You have my prayers that this will end well.

"Now, as for things that will not end well. Your last letter mentioned that your mother has become obsessed with a man who is not only twenty years younger, and in a committed relationship, but homosexual to boot. Kendappa, you _must _dissuade her from this folly! Life is suffering, as the Buddha realized, but that doesn't mean she should invite additional suffering in when it can be avoided.

"Remember to meditate, it will ease your stress from this situation. And once again: _make your feelings for Nina known_. It would be a shame if you were to lose her when you could have had her, simply by keeping silent. Humanity tends to be impatient, and if one thinks one is in love with someone unattainable, one tends to find someone else as a consolation.

"Namaste, my little Kendie.

"– Dad"

"You are so right, Dad!" Kendappa told the letter. "If I don't risk it, she might find somebody else! That can't be allowed to happen, not on _my _watch," she vowed, gently setting the letter down and striding towards the back hall, grabbing her purse as she went.

_It's time to confess to Nina. It's time to woman up. It's time to lay my heart in her hands, and if she turns me down I'll follow Tenou's example and be mature about it. I'll probably bash my harp against an innocent figurine if she does, but I hope she won't._

She was just about to open her garage door when her front doorbell rang, and she screamed a Nepali curse word. But if they'd gotten past the gate security they were someone she needed to talk to, so she stomped back down the hallway, through the study, through the living room, and over to the door while thinking, _Mom, if this is you, I'm going to have Victor take footage of him and James in bed, and send it to you so you stop trying to seduce James and. Leave. Me. ALONE ABOUT HIM!_

She unlocked all the locks, all the while trying to think of how to bribe Kujaku into doing that, and swung the door open, only to see that it was not Margaret on her front steps, but _Souma!_

"Nina?" Kendappa asked stupidly. "How did you get in here?"

"By telling the gatehouse guard I was your cousin, and bluffing her by telling her to call you if she didn't believe me," Souma said matter-of-factly. "Listen, can I come in? It's important. _Really _important," she nearly pleaded, having decided that their restroom conversation had to be continued at all costs.

"Please come in," Kendappa said hastily, going so far as to grab Souma's arm and hustle her inside. Okay, the plan had changed, but it was still time to confess. As Kendappa relocked the locks, Souma did some quick mental cheerleading, minus the pompoms and high ponytails.

"I have something to tell you," Kendappa said seriously, just as Souma blurted, "I love you."

For a moment it didn't register, then Kendappa lit up like a sunrise and breathed, "You _do? _You love me? Really?" she downright sang, grabbing both of Souma's hands and holding them tight to her chest.

"Really. Really really, even," Souma grinned as she stepped in close. "You are, without a doubt, my perfect woman, My Lady that I've been searching for… well, it seems like forever, and certainly since my junior year of high school. Kendappa Eliza Jikokuten, I love you so damn much it's crazy."

"Well, then we're crazy together," Kendappa Eliza Jikokuten happily proclaimed, and captured Souma's lips.

Well, not really "captured", more like "took a willing prisoner who in turn took her into custody". It was a phenomenal kiss, one rating an eleven on the Good Kiss Scale, which was only supposed to go up to ten. Kendappa let Souma's hands go and framed her face instead, as Souma cradled the back of her head with one hand and squeezed her around the shoulders with the other. Yes, this was a magical first couple liplock.

It was fantastically glorious, the aloof part of Souma's mind sighed. To finally, _finally _have Her Lady, and all those worries that Kendappa would turn her down now seemed so stupid and needlessly overwrought. Kendappa loved her back! This opened the gates to a paradise that she couldn't wait to explore, and – and–

"Mmmmh…"

Souma's mind became fully enmeshed in this kiss, and Kendappa's had been enmeshed for a while now. Love! "L" was for the way they were lesbians; "O" was for the way only a meteor strike or air raid siren could get their attentions off each other; "V" was for victory, because love had triumphed; and "E" was for the way everything was wonderful now.

Finally they broke that eleven-rated kiss, and Kendappa asked breathlessly, "Do you know the _real _reason I slashed Taishakuten's tires, unscrewed his chair, and sent him that worm?"

"Because you wanted to impress me?" Souma guessed with a grin. "If so, it worked."

"Well, not consciously, but there was probably some of that mixed in too. No, I wanted to punish him for hurting you not because you were my friend, but because I loved you," Kendappa proudly revealed. "I felt so awful when he yelled at you over the Phoenix incident, and I saw his car out in the city and thought, 'He has to pay for what he did to her.' I did it all for you!"

"Oh, _My Lady_…"

Time for another exceptional kiss, and Kendappa decided that the "My Lady" thing was cool, plus sweet. Not that Souma was really _subservient_, it was more along the lines of, "She adores me and thinks I'm classy and elegant! Yeeeha!" The "Yeeeha!" wasn't so ladylike, but who cared? Not Kendappa!

After concluding that kiss, Kendappa snuggled her head against Souma's collarbone and neck while breathing, "This confession ended _much _better than poor Tenou's."

Souma's brows quirked in surprise, and she cautiously asked, "Are you saying he…?"

"He asked me out," Kendappa sighed, raising her head to look Souma in the eye again. "Poor guy blindsided me. I had no idea whatsoever he was carrying a torch for his dad's colleague, and when I turned him down I'm pretty sure he was fighting off tears. Why is it that nice guys fall for women who are wrong for them so often?" she nearly lamented, a fresh wave of pity for Tenou breaking over her.

Souma sighed too, and replied, "I kind of thought he had a crush on you, but I didn't know it was serious. Do you think he'll be, well, all right?"

Kendappa nodded firmly and answered, "Yes I do. He took it very maturely, and band practice might be awkward for a while, but he even told me he hoped you'd make me happy." She smiled then and asked with mock vulnerability, "You will, won't you?"

Souma grinned back, and fiddled with one of her beloved's hair things as she assured her, "Well, I'll sure try my hardest! In that vein… I don't suppose you'd like show me your bedroom?" she intimated, with a sultry expression that a Golden-Age Hollywood bombshell would be jealous of.

Kendappa's face was now transfused with joy, and she hugged Souma tighter as she told her, with total honesty, "I think that would be the perfect conclusion to your visit. Heck, I'll put on some romantic music, we can grab some wine if you want, and when we're done we can scheme how to best get rid of Zachary and convince Taishakuten to let you transfer to me."

"Like Ellen and Aaron!" Souma said gleefully, as Kendappa gently tugged her towards the stairs. "Except minus the baby part. And silly facial hair."

And so Kendappa led Souma halfway up the stairs, remembered the wine, went back to get some and some glasses, and then continued with the leading. She swung the door to her rock star master bedroom open, and when Souma went, "Ooh," at the silk sheets, Kendappa bragged, "You haven't lived until you've made love on silk sheets, Nina dearest."

Well, pretty soon Souma was really living, and hazily made the vow that she'd be getting sheets like this for her own bed, which would be especially useful for when Her Lady came over.

.

As Kendappa and Souma were doing things that Varuna would've given an arm and a leg to be able to watch, Margaret was stepping out of her car in front of 1313 Peacock Street, frowning at a paper in her hand, then glancing up to the street number. Yes, this was it! This was James Yasha's house, thanks internet! It made stalking _so _much easier.

But she didn't see it as stalking, she saw it as being progressive, taking the lead in the romance. Never mind that he hadn't returned her calls or her emails, and had walked off without a backwards glance at that dinner, they were meant to be together! She needed him like she needed the air to breathe, she needed him like a boat needed the sea, and she needed him like the stars needed the moon, all of which were similes that she'd put into her prepared speech. If she couldn't have him, she'd never love again, surely.

She stopped to check her reflection in the car window, and yes, she still looked good. She'd expertly applied sexy makeup: lip gloss bolder and shinier than she usually went for, smoky eyeshadow because glitter eyeshadow was for hookers and party girls, faint blush on her cheeks to make herself look even more enticing, and mascara that had resulted in perfection. She had also spent a lot of time on her hair, chosen understated yet classy jewelry, and was wearing a sundress that showed off her cleavage, which was something to be proud of.

Yasha would love her! He would answer his door and stare, and realize that he was incredibly attracted to her. He'd invite her in, and she'd confess her feelings, he would confess his in turn, and then they'd make love (she was unaware that this was Kujaku's house too). Then they'd embark on a magical and romantic, well, romance, culminating in a marriage that would last until the day she died. That was how it would happen, it _had _to be, because there was simply no way God would let it be any different.

She nodded to her reflection and turned back around, her sexy pumps clicking on the sidewalk as she walked up it. Hmm, it was a nice yard and house too, at least from the outside. But she was willing to bet it was nice inside too, because Yasha was the type of man who liked things neat and kept-up.

This was true. Kujaku, on the other hand, would often leave stuff to be dealt with later, which more than once had resulted in a mini-confrontation, centered around lines like, "Your jacket goes in the closet, not on the back bench! What are you, a child who hasn't learned to pick up after himself?"

Blissfully unaware of Kujaku's presence in this mostly kept-up and neat house, Margaret mounted the steps with her heart beating fast. This was it! This was that most important night of her life, more important that when Jikokuten had proposed on a riverboat (which at the time she'd thought could never be beat, but she knew better now). She was in love with Yasha, infatuated with him really, and love at first sight meant it had to be right!

Inside the house, completely unsuspecting, Yasha and Kujaku were watching a DVD and snickering, on the couch with Kujaku snuggled against Yasha's side, and each with an arm thrown around the other. It was a _funny _DVD, a classic they'd watched numerous times, and there were a few parts neither ever, ever got tired of. Some comedy bits would probably endure forever, no matter how dated they became.

Onscreen, a flannel-clad Michael Palin had just left the homicidal barber sketch, and was joyfully and musically telling the world, "III'm a lumberjack and I'm okay, I sleep all night and I work all day!"

Just as the Royal Canadian Mountie chorus was joining in, and Kujaku was singing along, the doorbell rang. Yasha sighed and reached for the remote, but Kujaku huffed, "Oh, we can ignore it. If it was somebody we needed to talk to, they'd have called!"

Michael sang, "I cut down trees, I eat my lunch, I go to the lavor'_t'ry_ – On Wednesdays I go shopping, and have buttered scones for–"

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

Now Kujaku frowned at the door, and sighed, "Can't this idiot understand that we're coming up on the best part? James, pause it. I'll be right back," he muttered with a martyred air, standing up and frowning a bit harder.

As he stalked towards the door, he thought in exasperation, _It's too late for solicitors. We've already had dinner. …Maybe it's the police? Oh God, maybe James's parents got in a car accident! Oh man, how awful would that be, and if so, I feel guilty that we were trying to __blow the police off, and watching something funny while his parents are dead._

He unlocked the door and opened it with caution, only to be surprised to see a beautiful woman wearing a sexy dress smiling at him, instead of a solemn-faced officer of the law. The woman's smile turned to nearly panicked astonishment at the sight of him, and that was weird.

"Yes?" he asked cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of solicitor after all.

Margaret didn't respond for a moment, stunned that someone other than Yasha had answered the door. This was probably the boyfriend, who'd come over with abysmal timing. How was she supposed to seduce Yasha when this guy was here?

Well, there was nothing for it. She'd just have to confess with Kujaku there too, and Yasha would just choose between them. And he would undoubtedly pick a near-stranger over his partner of six years, right? Right! Because they were meant to be, and he and this character weren't.

"What do you want?" Kujaku nearly demanded, getting major bad vibes from this lady. "I was busy. If this isn't important, please leave." _You made me pause 'The Lumberjack Song'! We didn't even get to the 'He puts on women's clothing, and hangs around in bars?' part, and that's my favorite, when they look back at the camera and then sing all confidently again._

"I need to talk to James, please," she said firmly, but as winningly as she could. "It _is _important, very much so. It's _incredibly_ important, Mr…?"

"Mr. Kujaku, thanks. What's so important?" he asked suspiciously, with his sixth sense for trouble screaming at him. Something was up, and it was his solemn duty to protect Yasha from trouble.

Margaret smiled coaxingly and replied, "I can't tell you that, I'm sorry. It's for his ears alone. Will you please go get him, Mr. Kujaku?"

Kujaku gave her a weird look, then told her, "He's not home right now. Not to be rude, but who're you? You look familiar so I know we've met, but I have to admit I don't remember who you are."

"I'm Margaret Harper, Kendappa's mother," she replied serenely. "May I come in until he comes back? It's imperative that I tell him this." She mentally added, _You__ are obviously a flaming queer who is disgusted by the female body, with that hair and those eyes. Not to mention your "SpongeBob Squarepants" shirt, because SpongeBob is gay too!_

Here Margaret was striking out twice. Kujaku was bi and had had lots of fun prior to Yasha with women, and despite the hysteria of the right and the insistence by the gay community that SpongeBob was gay, his creator Stephen Hillenburg was on the record as saying (in a nutshell), "No, he's asexual, he's a cartoon of a sponge for crying out loud. He is acceptingof differences, though." Kujaku was wearing the shirt not as Vahyu would have worn it, as an expression of gay pride, but because SpongeBob was funny as hell.

Back in the living room, Yasha had startled at "Margaret Harper, Kendappa's mother". That woman made him nervous, and had she _really _stalked him to the point of showing up at his door? Apparently so, and he was grateful that Kujaku was lying through his teeth and trying to get rid of her. Now, all Yasha had to do was stay really quiet and out of her sight, and then she'd hopefully leave and he could file a restraining order the next day.

Kujaku replied to her request to come in with a blunt, "No. Not if you can't even tell me why you need to see him. Did your daughter feel slighted by something he did, or is this a personal call?" he questioned, remembering this lady now.

Yasha had shared with him that he'd unfortunately picked up another admirer, and now Kujaku had a pretty good idea of why she was here. Oh hell, was this going to be a repeat of the pet store, when they'd gone in for a ferret only to have an associate named Gigei try to get Yasha's number? And then she'd tried to follow him home. Only Kujaku's mad tail-evading skillz had shaken her off, a useful trait learned back in high school when he'd been kind of a wild one.

No, he realized, this was worse than Gigei. Because Margaret had figured out where Yasha lived, and if Kujaku didn't do something, one night he'd wake up to a window smashing and a clonk to the head, to make it easier for Margaret to hold Yasha at gunpoint and run away with him.

She'd hesitated on the "personal call" question, giving him time to think all that, and now lied, "Why, it _is _about Kendappa! She was very upset by something James said to her."

As Yasha tried to think of what that might be, Kujaku arched an eyebrow and drawled, "And she didn't tell him herself because? That lady can take care of herself, and if she was pissed at him, we'd know it. Now, either tell me the truth about why you're here, or I'm going to slam the door and not open it for the rest of the night."

She thought about staying the course and camping out in her car, then ringing the bell in the morning, but decided that it was time to use a shock tactic. She looked Kujaku in the eye, and told a whopper: "You see, James got me pregnant."

As Kujaku's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to snarl, "Oh he did _not_," Yasha sprang to his feet in the living room and bellowed, "I'll sue you for that libel!"

Margaret's eyes widened in startled hope. He _was _here! The flaming queer had been lying to her, the nerve! Ooh, how dare he try to protect his man. She'd smile really hard when Yasha kicked him to the curb and out of the house, before they adjourned upstairs to his manly bedroom for some manly sex and manly professions of manly love. And once he'd had her, he'd never look at other males in a sexual light again. So there, Mr. Liar.

Yasha stormed towards the door as Kujaku cringed, caught in his little protective falsehood. But at least now Yasha would lay this attraction to rest once and for all, and if she persisted in her affections, he would have no trouble getting a restraining order. Kendappa would be all too happy to help him. After all, she'd mentioned that her mother was out of line and offered her sympathy one day at lunch, and Kujaku now wished he'd told her to get her mom to a psychologist and possibly a psychiatrist too, to deal with those out-of-whack brain chemicals.

He stepped aside to let Yasha confront his stalker, and before Margaret could say anything the taller man snarled, "You have some nerve, lying like that. Any lawyer would say that's reason for a suit!"

"I did it because I _love _you!" she cried, worried at his furious tone. "He wouldn't let me see you, and I needed him to let me talk to you face-to-face! James, can't you see that we're meant to be together?!"

"No you're not," Kujaku snapped, fed up and disgusted. "He's meant to be together with _me_, lady. I don't know what you're smoking, but you'd better lay off and sober up, before you get slapped with a fine and a tracking ankle bracelet. You may not know this, but this city's adopted a new program where restraining order recipients are fitted with those if the victim asks for it."

She didn't dignify that with a response, because surely he was bluffing. She just pleaded with Yasha, "Dump him for me! You're too much of a macho man to be with him! You need a woman, a good woman who'll love you forever, and take care of you in every way! You need _me! _And I need you like I need the air to breathe, like a boat needs the sea, like–"

"Like you need a good dose of reality," Kujaku said cuttingly, putting a hand against an opposite doorframe as a clear barrier to Yasha. "Go away, he doesn't love you. He _can't_, he's not set up that way."

Yasha said, as firmly and as bluntly as he could, "Margaret, I am not going to miraculously change my sexuality for you. I am gay, I love Victor, and if you don't leave I'm calling the police."

Her world was shattered! She cried out in despair, burying her face in her hands as dramatically as she could to get more sympathy. Maybe Yasha would see how much he'd hurt her, and engage in pity sex or something. Yes! Yes, and then she'd always have the memory of their one night together, to cling to in the cold sea of… well, something poignantly profound, she'd figure that out later.

Unfortunately Kujaku saw through this ploy, and snapped, "Please, I'm sorry you're hurt, but if you don't get off our front steps I'm putting you into a headlock until the police get here. James, go back to the couch, I'll take it from here."

Yasha nodded, impressed with Kujaku's manly protectiveness, and turned on his heel and walked off. God… why did straight women fall for gay men so often? Why did they fall for him in particular so often? It was almost like a team of four women wanted to show how attractive and perfect their hero was, and so made a ton of ladies fall for him for comic relief. Or, at least, be attracted to him while she tried to kill him, in one case.

But that's neither here nor there. Margaret sniffled to Kujaku, "I hope you're happy. You ruined my life!"

Kujaku adopted a softer tone and told her, "I really am sorry you're upset, but you have to see that James won't love you. You also should know that if you persist in pursuing him, we _will _file a restraining order, because we have the right to be left alone. I think you should see a therapist, and with counseling, you'll come to realize how unhealthy this is."

In his head, he added, _And if I'm lucky, you'll fall for your therapist if he's a guy. It's not unheard of! And then you'll leave James be, and I won't have to tell Kendappa what a nutjob she has for a mom._

Margaret, as she sniffled and wiped her eyes, decided that she _would _see a therapist, but to discuss the violent visions she had running through her head now. In them, she ran Kujaku over with an SUV, pushed him off a bridge onto a high-speed freeway, filled him full of lead, set him on fire, and bashed his head in with the pointy end of a hammer. It was kind of scary that she was thinking all that, so she made the mental note to talk to a professional about these sudden homicidal fantasies.

So she whirled without a word, ran back to her car, and cried into her hands for a while. Then she fished some Kleenex out of her purse, and turned the car on with violent motions. Her hopes had been cruelly dashed! She felt like she wanted to cry herself to death, and the worst part was that Yasha wouldn't even care. He probably wouldn't even attend the funeral, let alone take the stand for a eulogy and break down into regretful tears.

_God, why did you do this to me? _she wailed in her head as she started to drive._ I'm a good person! The worst thing I ever did was sleep with Darrel before marriage – well, and dump his hot soup over his head when he told me we were separating. How could you let this happen?_

Needless to say, there was no sudden burst of light with a stentorian male voice replying, "BECAUSE SOMETIMES IN LIFE, THINGS DON'T GO AS PLANNED, MARGARET HARPER. NO ONE IS IMMUNE TO SUFFERING."

_I need validation! _she raged to herself. _And I know just where to get it, too._

As Margaret changed course, Kujaku was telling Yasha, "All I'm saying is, it might be wise to get a security system. Maybe _she _won't come back, but there's going to be others, James. That's just your raw animal magnetism," he smirked, patting Yasha's left pectoral.

Yasha thought on that, and decided, "Yes, I think you're right, because taekwondo only does so much after all. Or maybe we should get a dog. A _big _dog. A Newfoundland, or something. When a Newfie barks, any prowlers with half a brain run away."

"Why don't we get a Newfie _and _a security system?" Kujaku suggested, picking up the remote to finish "The Lumberjack Song". "The double whammy. I mean, we already can't get a small animal because Gigei might be working when we go in for supplies. And all we have to do is go through a rescue group, or see what the shelter has!"

"–I like to press wildflow'rs," Michael Palin sang proudly, and Yasha and Kujaku both grinned in anticipation. "I put on women's clothing, and hang around in bars!"

As the Mounties repeated that so unsuspectingly, then realized what they were singing, Yasha pulled Kujaku tighter against him and thought, _Thank God for Victor. If he hadn't been there to diffuse the situation, I might have had to back-kick her in self-defense._

.

We now return to our regularly scheduled lesbianism, already in progress. Kendappa and Souma were lying back in bed, exceptionally contented and very happy, holding each other like they'd never let their partner go again. And in Kendappa's case, thanking her lucky stars that Taishakuten had come along. Why, without him, she'd have never met Souma! That didn't mean he got to be let off the hook for upcoming punishments if he was mean to her, though.

"Kendappa," Souma finally breathed, running a hand through sweat-dampened long hair, "that was by far the best love I've ever made. I'm more convinced than ever that we're made for each other."

"I completely agree," Kendappa firmly replied, doing some hair running-through in return. "Oh Nina, we _have _to find a way to get you away from Taishakuten and over to me!"

"But even if we don't, we'll still have this," Souma said firmly, then kissed Kendappa yet again. When she pulled back, she continued, "He can't order us to not be together, after all. Hell, if he fires me, he can't order me to do anything ever again."

"If he fires you, I'm hiring a hitman," Kendappa said flatly. "Fucker."

Wow, so what Souma had once thought about Her Lady was true: she'd agree that Taishakuten was a fucker, and they'd bash on him between all the hot sex. Talk about her perfect woman! Sometimes, the universe took care of you like that. Yes Kendappa had faults, and the way she got an evil gleam in her eye sometimes was a little scary, but really, Souma was more than willing to accept those flaws because the pros overwhelmed the cons.

"You should just move in with me," Kendappa was saying. "I mean it! Why waste any time?"

Souma was elated, and was just opening her mouth to say, "What a wonderful idea!" when the doorbell rang. Repeatedly. Very hard. Like a sugar-high elementary-schooler was trying to play "Chopsticks" with it, gah.

Souma glared at the ceiling. Kendappa glared at the ceiling too, but reluctantly got out of bed with a muttered growl of, "It's someone important, it has to be. Whoever they are, though, they're gonna get an earful and maybe a swing with my harp, I'm so pissed. Nina, stay here, I'll send them packing as soon as I can."

"I'm coming with," Souma said firmly, getting out of bed herself and reaching for her clothes. "What if it's actually some sort of slasher? I can protect you with kung fu."

Kendappa thought about arguing, or saying something like, "I want to be able to come back here and see you all arrayed in my bed," or pleading, "If it's my mother, it might be awkward," …but instead she sighed and nodded, forgoing her clothes to instead throw on a robe. The sooner she got down there and made them stop ringing the damned doorbell, the better. If this was indeed Margaret, Kendappa was going to bitch her out if all she wanted was to gush over Yasha again.

Souma, having thrown on her clothes faster than Kendappa had thought would be possible, followed her beloved downstairs, and the doorbell kept ringing. Kendappa stomped to the door, yelled, "All right, you've gotten my attention!" and unlocked the locks with a murderous expression, swinging the door open much more violently than was necessary.

No sooner had the door opened wide enough than Margaret threw herself into her daughter's arms, bawling, "Honey! James hates me! I can't go on!" with more angst than a school bus full of misfit teenage girls. Kendappa, stunned at this, awkwardly patted her shoulders and mumbled, "Um. There there?"

"He's gay, and he can't love me!" Margaret cried, telling Kendappa something the Senior VP had known since Day One. "I – I – I can't take it!"

And with that, she rushed into the kitchen as the other two followed, and barely noticed the new person or the fact that Kendappa was only wearing a robe with her hair loose. Nope, who cared about that? She had a mission, and since she knew her way around Kendappa's kitchen pretty well, she was convinced that it would be easy to execute it. She threw a cabinet open, there saw the kitchen knife collection, and grabbed the biggest one like King Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone (except much better groomed).

"I'm going to kill myself!" she dramatically proclaimed, waving the butcher knife around. "Your father dumped me for spirituality, and James refused to turn bisexual for me. I have nothing left to _live _for, if I can't have James Yasha!"

Kendappa froze, horrified, but Souma simply frowned, stepped forwards, and snatched the knife out of Margaret's hand with a disgusted, "Don't play around with suicide, you drama-addicted fool. Shame on you, using such a thing to get attention! I know you're upset and I'm sorry for that, but that's no reason to scare your daughter."

Margaret pouted, upset that Souma was right. She hadn't _really _been about to stab herself or slit her wrists, she'd just wanted Kendappa to give her the attention her broken heart deserved. The nerve of Souma, calling her out on her BS! So what if it was disrespectful to actual suicidal people and their families, it was a ploy that usually worked.

She glared at Souma, glared at Kendappa, considered her, and snapped, "Kendappa Eliza, what have you been up to? This woman's presence and your attire indicate to me that you've been doing something bad."

"No, I was doing something really _good_," her daughter shot back, as Souma put the knife back and emphatically shut the cabinet. "This is Nina, my girlfriend who I love so very, very much. She's going to move in, but that's not what we're discussing now. Mom, I think it's time we got you to a therapist, so you can examine why you thought you needed a man to live," she said with a fed-up sigh.

"I plan on seeing a therapist as soon as possible," Margaret loftily replied, which was true. "I'm crushed and heartbroken, just like with your Eastern whacko father, except worse."

"I think that's an excellent idea, to get professional help," Souma said soothingly, trying not to spook this strung-out soul. "With counseling, you'll come to find that your life has worth without a man. I mean, Margaret, you lived for years on your own, getting your daughter through college and dealing with all the things your ex-husband used to deal with, Kendappa told me all about it."

That was true, and Margaret's expression softened. Hey, yeah, she _had _done all that! She was still a much weaker person than Kendappa and Souma, but at least she wasn't a total pushover like Varuna, or Vahyu when somebody more powerful than him came along. So she took a deep breath, and asked Souma, "Do you love my daughter, Nina?"

"Very much so," Souma answered, even as Margaret was finishing her question. "More than anyone ever before. Kendappa's amazing, and I'm so lucky that she loves me in return."

Margaret actually smiled then, going from obsessive drama queen to good mother, and responded with, "Well, congratulations then. I suppose I should be going now. I'll call you tomorrow to tell you which doctor I'll be seeing," she said over her shoulder as she turned to go. "And Kendappa dear, you really shouldn't answer your door in a robe and nothing else. What if I'd been some sort of slasher?"

As Kendappa rolled her eyes and Souma smirked, Margaret let herself out and walked back to her car. Kendappa stared after her, and as she drove away her daughter muttered to Souma, "I think she might be bipolar, I really do. Judging by the way I can go from cheery to vengeful so quickly, maybe I should get evaluated for it too."

"Perhaps. It's debilitating and medication works wonders, but I don't think you're bipolar," Souma crooned as Kendappa locked the locks. "I think you're just – just temperamental. Tempestuous! And I like woman with strong emotions," she grinned, picking Kendappa up by her waist and holding her close.

"And I like women who can do stuff like this," Kendappa laughed in reply. "Say Nina… what say you carry me upstairs and we pick up where we left off?"

.

The next morning before the Senior VP briefing, Souma and Kendappa cornered Taishakuten, who was glaring at his cast and trying not to think about how much his leg itched. The time was nigh to make their case! They'd hashed it out, rehearsed it, and even come up with multiple backup plans in case he said "no". One way or another, Nina Souma was going to transfer to Kendappa Jikokuten, who had also planned her "You're fired" speech for Zachary.

"Hello, Mr. Taishakuten sir," Souma greeted sweetly, giving him a winning smile. "I hope you're doing well."

"What do you want?" he snapped in answer. "Time is money, Nina, and I know you're up to something. You've been up to something for two years!"

"No, I've just been being an excellent assistant," she calmly replied. "But sir, the time has come for me to ask for a transfer. You see, I think I'd be even more productive with Kendappa, and let's face it, you and I don't see eye-to-eye on numerous issues. But _she _and I work well together, and–"

"Undoubtedly you two hooked up last night," Taishakuten interrupted. "Which comes as no surprise to me. But Nina," he sighed, "if you're so insistent on being Kendappa's assistant… very well. Because I deserve an assistant who adores me, not one who obeys but doesn't like me. Don't bother to deny it, because I know it's true," he nearly barked, that itch on his leg getting worse and worse.

"Well, you do have a bit of a point there," she hedged, and Kendappa jumped in with, "It's so true that you deserve an awestruck assistant, sir! You're the best CEO in the world, and boy, your strength is something I could never go against," she lied, giving him a loyal smile. The better to seal the deal with, after all!

Blithely unaware of who had instigated some of his misery, Taishakuten smirked and complimented, "You see Nina, _this _is how everyone should treat me. Kendappa, you may have Nina. Now go get the paperwork started, and you must find me a suitable replacement before you transfer," he ordered Souma.

"Will do, sir," she grinned. "I'll just see Kendappa off, okay?"

"All right," Taishakuten agreed, already turning his attention to the next task. "Just no romantic dilly-dallying."

The minute they'd shut the door behind them, Kendappa and Souma hugged each other, as Hanranya looked on in confused surprise. They'd done it! They'd triumphed! They'd gotten what they wanted, and soon, Souma would have a _good _boss, and Kendappa would have a _good _assistant, and they could tell the world they were in love.

"I can't believe it worked so well," Kendappa nearly giggled, fiddling with one of Souma's earrings. "We must've been really, really good in a past life. And now, the sky's the limit!"

"My Lady," Souma proclaimed with a grin, "from now on, you and I are unstoppable."

.

.

(AN: Yeah, I really preferred Lady Kendappa, sympathizer to the rebellion and woman who once mentally called Taishakuten a monster, to Jikokuten, nutjob with a _really_ dumb reason for being Tai's baddest minion, and plotholes and contradictions galore in her backstory. That's another glaring example of CLAMP's bait-and-switch.

So yes, I was grinning evilly as I wrote her being all passive-aggressive with my least-favorite character. Who else thinks that man didn't deserve to die of natural causes or suicide? I mean, hello, Yasha's still around, he could've lopped off Taishakuten's girly-haired head in revenge for his tribe dying. After all, that's why Bishie bites the dust, and guess who told him to commit genocide?

Kendappa's "fondly, dearly, disinterestedly, devotedly" line, as I hope you already knew, is paraphrased from Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. It's spoken by Charles Darnay to Dr. Manette, the father of the woman he hopes to marry. Great book; go read it.

There's one more small installment of this fic left: an epilogue, where someone will get hit in the head with a Frisbee, those legal to drink will get alcohol, Vahyu will find new targets to try to seduce, and Yasha and Ashura will interact, yay!)


	10. Epilogue

_In which everybody has fun in the sun… well, almost everybody._

.

.

(August 19th, 2015)

Bishamonten watched Taishakuten lounge back in the boss chair he'd had carried out here to the state park, as it was company picnic time once again. The CEO observed the antics of his subordinates with patient amusement, sitting on his throne with a bottle of hard lemonade. Silly little minions, take them out of the office and they acted like children – well, all right, some of them acted like children in the office too, but who was keeping track?

He sipped his drink and murmured, "Reginald, I think Edward is going to fall forward onto his grill. Go pull him back."

The head of Expansion turned. Indeed, Koumokuten's assistant was leaning forwards, jaw slack, as Souma and Kendappa engaged in a display of public affection. As they watched, Kendappa patted Souma's ass while she was kissing the living daylights out of her. This had happened earlier, but Varuna just hadn't seen such a scintillating sight before. God existed! And he'd set Souma and Kendappa on this earth for Varuna's viewing pleasure, surely.

Unimpressed by such a thing, Bishamonten barked, "Edward! Your shirt is on fire!"

And yes, the open outer shirt had ignited, little flames licking at the bottom of it. Varuna looked down, shrieked, and then stopped, dropped, and rolled, luckily managing to put the flames out.

From a picnic table in the shade, Karura shook her head and sighed, "Foolish man. As if he's never seen two women in love before. You'd think he'd at least have seen some lesbianism on TV or in movies," she muttered, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Her husband chuckled, "What a moron, leaning over a grill like that. And now his hotdogs are burning too." He considered Karura, cocked his head, and rubbed a bit of sunscreen in on her cheek, saying fondly, "Dear, you missed a spot."

Karyoubinga laughed at this, one-year-old Andrew joining in because laughing was fun! Auntie Karyou giggled, "Sister, you always miss a spot! It's a good thing Aaron's here to help."

"Yes it is, Karyou," Karura smiled, passing her little sister a can of soda. "Lucky indeed."

She and Zouchouten smiled at each other, and Karyoubinga thought this was cute. Yeah they had arguments, and when he got mad it was scary, but for the most part, Zouchouten and Karura had a happily ever after. Why, she'd even weaned him off his dependence on caffeine! She was _so _totally Superwoman, or something, Karyoubinga thought proudly. Not that Zouchouten was a helpless Louis Lane, but maybe they could be… be… oh, Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl, minus the Mirage subplot.

"Ma-ma," Andrew burbled, trying to grab his mother's burger. "WANT!"

Karura immediately scooted her plate out of her son's reach, and scolded, "Andrew John Zouchouten, that's for Mommy. Someday you'll be able to eat that, but not yet."

He pouted, big golden eyes turning sulky, and Karyou ruffled his hair as she grinned, "Soon, Andrew. You're off the baby food and onto soft foods already! Soon you'll be eating what Aaron eats – except probably not as much," she allowed, glancing over at her brother-in-law's plate piled high with food.

"Oh, I hope not," Karura said with mock horror. "Two of you will eat out of house and home!" she joked, sending Zouchouten a smile. Wasn't it amazing what being happy will do for stern, unsmiling women?

Not that Karura would ever be as bubbly as Kujaku, or even as giggly as Souma and Kendappa, but she smiled so often now. And why wouldn't she? She loved her husband, she loved their son, she loved their dog, she loved the birds, and she loved her sister, who just kept getting better and better at singing. In fact, Karyou was always singing with Andrew, often prompting his parents to join in. Karura's voice was decent and Zouchouten's wasn't, but oh well, Andrew couldn't tell how bad it was.

Zouchouten smiled back at Karura, putting his arm around her and observing, "Here comes Reginald. Everybody look like we're having productive fun," he cracked with an incorrigible grin.

"Aaron," Bishamonten huffed, "I heard that. For God's sake, you might show a little respe–"

"Hey Reginald!"

A Frisbee bounced off Bishamonten's head as Zouchouten roared with laughter, Karura snickering too and Karyoubinga and Andrew giggling uncontrollably, like this was the most amusing thing ever.Bishamonten shook his dazed head to clear it, glaring at the audience, then turned with a scowl on the face to see which miscreant had provided entertainment to the gawkers.

Koumokuten waved and grinned, as Tamara pointed and sniggered. Bulls-eye!

"Aw, sorry Reginald. If you'd been looking, that would've been right to you," he said, as innocently as someone like him was capable of. "As it was, though, I wish I could've seen your face."

Insolent ruffian! Bishamonten glared, drew breath to yell, and then… smiled evilly and purred, "Xavier, let me just return this to you."

And with a nasty grin he winged the hard disk at the head of Marketing, clipping and breaking his sunglasses. Koumokuten's mouth dropped open in shock, because how dare the tightass fight back? Ooh, Bishamonten was goin' down, because those were expensive sunglasses that he liked a lot.

Tamara shrieked, "Daddy!" and ran over to make sure her father hadn't been killed by a Frisbee to the temple, even though he was going for Bishamonten already. But ha ha ha, Bishamonten's fondness for track in high school served him well, and he hoofed it to the other side of the pavilion with a proud smirk. But uh-oh, he'd forgotten that kickboxing training involved running too, so maybe he'd have to go farther before Koumokuten gave up and recognized his boss's superiority.

As her husband hurtled by her close on his prey's heels, Aguni cheered, "You can do it, Master of my heart! Get him! GET HIM! Tackle him! Don't let him get away!" she screamed joyfully, making most everyone else turn to watch this drama of the immature Generals of the Boardroom (in Bermuda shorts).

Alas, he did not get him. Bishamonten pulled a dirty trick and skidded to a halt right behind Shashi, whose glare and folded arms made Koumokuten hastily skid to a stop too, then send her a sickly "I was just kidding" smile and back away. Oh man, Shashi was scary! She'd kick him somewhere important, and while that would undoubtedly spur Aguni to an attack of her own, it would be little consolation. Yup, classic Koumokuten: targets weaker than him or at his level were a-okay to harass, but somebody stronger freaked him out.

As he tried to make it look like he'd just lost interest, ambling over to his wife, Aguni sighed, "Dark overlord of desire, won't you get your little Amazon bunny another beer? Or maybe some lemonade," she decided with a firm nod of her head. "We can stick two straws in it and share it!"

"Of course, Pele," Koumokuten nearly cooed, making Tamara wonder how soon was too soon to want to move out of your parent's house.

_Life is good, _he thought as he turned for the coolers. _So maybe Love Motel ultimately failed and I'll never get Reginald's job, but I'm such a god at Marketing that this might actually be a good thing. And really, if I was the Expansion VP I'd have to curtail my interactions with my beloved Pele at work, so things are fine the way they are. And a zillion times better than if I'd never offed Melissa!_

Aguni watched him go, with a pleased and infatuated smile on her face. Wasn't it wonderful, being married to your soulmate? It would be even more wonderful when Tamara moved out, then she herself and Master/Manslave Koumokuten could do even more with the S & M! Boy, it was fun, and she was pleased that she'd gotten Shashi to try the light stuff. Of course, Aguni preened, Mistress/Sex Slave Aguni was better at it than Shashi would ever be, not that she'd ever verbalize that.

She glanced up at the stage, where the band would be playing in an hour or so. Yes, Kendappa had prevailed upon Taishakuten to let Dragon Tribe provide entertainment, and even to invite a friend along. It would beat Tamara's singing, Aguni thought to herself with a mean little smile.

From a table not too far away, Ashura's face adopted a worried expression at Aguni's smile. Oh man, that lady was scary! Well, Yasha would protect him from her, he was willing to bet.

Yasha and Ashura… now there was a friendship for the ages. They'd met at the company picnic two years ago, and hit it off at once. Ashura almost wished his father had gotten together with Taishakuten earlier, just so he'd have met his super-cool idol before ("almost" being the operative word). Yasha was awesome, and he liked kids, and Ashura happened to be one of those. Ashura thought Yasha was just the neatest person in existence, as Ashuraou had fallen from that pedestal due to Taishakuten.

He also thought Kujaku was super-cool. In fact, he often found himself thinking, _Can I be adopted by them when Daddy's still alive? I mean, I love him and all, but James is a total pushover and Victor goes along with stuff I do __for the giggles. Maybe Daddy can come over and visit every weekend, just __not__ with Arthur._

"Here's your two hotdogs, Ashura," Yasha was smiling, breaking Ashura's reverie. "With everything, like you said. You can sure eat a lot," he sighed, as Ashura began to wolf down a hotdog.

"That's because I'm always hungry," the nine-year-old deadpanned around a mouthful of food. "If you were always hungry, you'd eat a lot too!"

"I would try to pace myself at least," Yasha gently chided, but with a slight smile on his face. "Chew your food, Ashura, honestly. I've already had to do the Heimlich twice, let's not go for three times, all right?" he nearly pleaded, as the last bite of Hotdog Number One disappeared down Ashura's ravenous gullet.

Ashura nodded and ate the second one a bit more slowly, as Yasha cast his eyes heavenwards and sighed. This child was wonderful, and Yasha would happily fight Ashuraou for him, but he was so reckless sometimes. Oh well, at least he had that nice Nathan Ryuu to keep him in line, and safe.

Kujaku watched Yasha watch Ashura with a knowing smirk on his lips. D'awww, Wannabe Daddy Yasha! If Kujaku had been capable of getting pregnant, he would have happily borne a kid for his partner, since the guy was so good with them and paternal. As it was, though, he was mulling over the idea of adopting, not that he'd mentioned that to Yasha yet. For now, the surrogate child figure of Ashura was working, pretty darn well.

And then, Kujaku's smile turned to a frown, because Vahyu came around. The Ad Manager struck a pose right in Yasha's line of sight just as Kujaku received his burger, and it was time to make him back off. Or maybe just taunt him, that would be fun too.

"Hey James!" Kujaku said brightly, piling cheese onto his burger. "Wanna show me that tongue trick you do with a hotdog?"

Yasha turned beet red in both embarrassment and anger, while Vahyu crossed his arms and muttered something about that being _his _line. Kujaku grinned downright villainously, rubbing it in with a "Nyah-nyah" wink at Vahyu, who turned red as well. Ashura cocked his head, extremely confused as to why playing with your food was such an apparently tension-filled subject.

Vahyu huffed, "Fine! I can tell when my wonderful self isn't wanted," and meandered over to the sulking Varuna, who was inspecting the hem of his shirt with a glum expression on his face. Figured.

"Victor is a tool," Vahyu sniffed arrogantly, trying to pretend that he wasn't jealous of Kujaku. "And – Edward, would you _stop _with the pouty face? It doesn't work for you. So your shirt got ruined, it wasn't like it was designer," he said, with a mean tone and a condescending smile.

Varuna didn't deign to give him a response, just let the hem go and took a hotdog off the grill. Oh well. At least it hadn't been his hair that had caught fire, and at least Aguni hadn't _set _him on fire, and at least Koumokuten hadn't seen the shirt ignite, and it hadn't been a new shirt either. If the same thing had happened to Vahyu, it would have been a designer and very expensive shirt that had gone partially up in flames.

Oh, Vahyu… he was his pal, but Varuna still thought the man was too over-the-top. But really, Vahyu didn't hit on _him_, so they could still be pals. If that ever changed, Varuna might have to find a different job, because the best way to cope with this one was to whine about its downsides with Mr. Wonderful. Vahyu was a sympathetic ear, and Varuna prayed that would never change.

And so, to be nice, he offered, "Want this hotdog, Charles?"

"Thanks but no thanks," Vahyu sighed, turning to go. "I think I'll go talk to Nathan. He promised me he'd get me an autographed copy of The Mr. Mom's House Personal Grooming Book."

He strolled over to Ryuu, who looked around for an escape, didn't see one, and summoned a cheery smile to his face when he wanted to grimace. This guy freaked him out! And what was _with _his super-tight shorts?

Before Vahyu could say anything, Ryuu groaned, "I already told you dude, I'll get you that book! Are you trying to hit on me or something?! I mean, your open shirt and nipple piercings lead me to believe you–"

"Nathan," Vahyu sniffed, "I'm not the only man here with an open shirt. Why, that handsome couple over there is just like me!"

Ryuu looked and blanched, fighting the urge to gag, then nearly bawled, "Those are my _cousins_,Mr. Vahyu! Their shirts aren't open because they're engaging in homoerotic mutual fanservice!" he pleaded, trying to make this flaming fruitcake lay off his unsuspecting brethren.

Vahyu lit up and asked, "Cousins, you say? Are they brothers then?"

Ryuu nodded warily and replied, "Yeah. Hakuryuu's the one with the white hair and Seiryuu's the one with the black hair." As he spoke he pointed, and for the thousandth time wished his kin were normal people.

Vahyu mentally moved "Have threesome with studly brothers" a little higher on his list of life goals, and grinned, "Do _tell_,Nathan. Why don't you introduce me?" he suggested, tossing his own perfect hair.

"Um, Mr. Vahyu, they're not gay," Ryuu tried desperately. "Don't you notice the way they're hovering around Kisshouten?"

Vahyu looked again, and yes indeed, Hakuryuu was handing Kisshouten lemonade while Seiryuu helped her into a lawn chair, which really was unnecessary. But oh well, it made him look chivalrous, and she was smiling at him. Chalk up another point on the scoreboard of romance for Seiryuu, although he and his brother were still pretty evenly tied, and seemed to be okay so far with that.

Vahyu glared at Kisshouten, and snapped, "Oh. I see. But Nathan," he smiled, an idea having occurred to him, "she can have one and I can have the other! You know, most humans are inherently bisexual…"

The inherently straight Seiryuu was saying, "Isn't this fun? So this is what the powerful people do for their picnics."

"Just like the regular people," Kisshouten smiled, then took a sip of lemonade. When she had finished with that, she went on, "Except that the hotdogs are gourmet and the beer is imported, and everyone has to tiptoe around Taishakuten's sensibilities."

"I don't like that man," Hakuryuu sighed, thus adding a point to his own score. "But at least he was kind enough to let us invite you."

She nodded, and basked in the attention. My, this must have been what those lucky Hindu, high-caste women with multiple men back in the day had felt like! Kisshouten had researched such a thing, and been pleased to see that _fraternal _polyandry had historically been the most common form: a woman and brothers. See, she was so totally _not _headed to Hell for those naughty fantasies. Chew on this, Islam, historical Mormonism, and all those other polygynous societies.

Okay, so she'd probably never tell them any of that. Okay, they might freak the heck out if she intimated that she'd been thinking about it. Okay, she'd probably be sent to jail and pilloried in the media if it actually happened and anyone else found out, never mind that men with multiple partners was often seen as awwwright. And okay, Tentei would probably have a heart attack if she showed up at his door with her men and beamed, "Guess what Father! I'm involved in a ménage a trois of headbanded awesomeness!"

But it made for a nice little mental vacation. And since the maturity had continued, she could feel justified in thinking about it. Really, she had fun with either one and more fun with both, so she wasn't rushing to flip that coin.

Puffball often wondered why his mommy hadn't chosen a mate yet. He was observant, and also wondered why Hakuryuu and Seiryuu weren't rumblestrutting and trying to bite each other, and showing dominance in whatever ways they could. Human boars were so weird, he would think without the use of words. Then again, humans were just weird, period. He loved Mommy so much, but she and her fellow hominids did so many odd things.

Case in point: today she had sung Evanescence's "Snow-White Queen" while dancing around her living room wearing all white, before she left to go to the picnic. And now, having applied some sunscreen, her skin would remain the pale tone that had been complimented before. That was an advantage to having a dermatologist interested in you: he didn't make fun of your lack of a tan.

Just then her phone rang, interrupting a pleasant vision of a massage and a poetry reading, and she pulled it from her pocket to see that it was Tentei.

"Hello Father," she smiled into the phone, watching Ryuu try to teach Ashura how to do a handstand. "How are you?"

"I am _wonderful_, honey!" he sang, which was actually kind of unnerving. On his end, he was standing on his desk, wearing a lab coat and pumping his free fist in the air as he revealed, "Kisshouten, Phil just got fired!"

Oh yes, he had. Phil Baumgartner had fallen prey to what so many other men and a few women had been brought down by, the siren call of porn at work. He'd been eagerly watching "Tantric Tennis Titty Titans" on his laptop when Dr. Espinoza, the head of the team, had snuck up behind him. Needless to say, she had been most displeased, and had fired him then and there. Tentei had heard Phil's useless pleas through the door, and had to call his wife and share this good news.

Megan had been disgusted. Tentei had been most excited. Ha, now he could get a _better _coworker, maybe even a woman because they tended to be more discrete about their vices. And as a bonus, Tentei's ranking had just gone up, leaving him second only to Dr. Espinoza, who was actually planning on retiring soon.

Kisshouten asked her father, "What did he do?"

"He was watching filthy smut on his laptop, in the break room. Darling, this just goes to show that if I don't like someone, they're bad news," he said loftily, shaking his free index finger in the air. "Listen to your dear old dad, won't you?"

"Right, right. Listen, dear old dad, congratulations. But I'm kind of busy right now," she told him, as Hakuryuu ever so casually crossed his legs in the chair on her right, so his foot made the barest contact with hers. "I'm at a picnic."

"Ah. A nice wholesome activity," Tentei said jovially, climbing back down from his desk. "Well Princess, have a wonderful day!"

"You too, Father. Bye now."

As Kisshouten hung up, Hakuryuu tipped his head back and closed his eyes, basking in the sunlight on his face. And since he had sunscreen too, he could enjoy it without worrying about UV rays. Oh yes, Dr. Waters was so responsible! And it was great to be able to think of himself like that. He'd passed residency with flying colors, and actually elected to stay at the Renbatz Healthy Skin and Laser Treatment Center. After all, Dr. Renbatz's interactions with him had been much improved.

Not that they were pals, and she still muttered about his long hair, but at least Seiryuu's plan had resulted in less antagonism, by far. There had been no need to pen a sequel to "The Boss Dies Tonight", for which he was very thankful. His life was quite good: the cats were all healthy, the band was playing better than ever, Ryuu was in college and doing well, he and Seiryuu were closer than ever, and Kisshouten was very obviously flattered by all the attention, and pretty darn receptive to it. Yay!

_The status quo is acceptable, _he thought with a slight smile. _It will change eventually, because the only constants in life are death and taxes and annoying people, but perhaps it will get better. Or perhaps it will get worse, so I'd better savor this for as long as it lasts._

…_I wonder what Sei's thinking_.

_I want a motorcycle, _Seiryuu was thinking, envisioning such a thing. _A Harley! A macho blue one with a dragon graphic and a matching helmet, and a spare helmet so I can take Kisshouten for a ride. Or Nathan, but I'll have more fun with Kisshouten._

Boy, would they look good tearing down a freeway. Unfortunately their hair would get all tangled from the wind, but maybe he could just tell her to bring a small brush and he'd do the same. And then, to be fair, she could take a ride in Hakuryuu's new Maserati, Seiryuu saw the lay of the land. Maybe his brother didn't, but _he'd _figured out that she was eating up all the two-way attention. He wasn't so sure if he liked that, but at least this way she wasn't going to reject him, right? Right!

He sipped some beer, then sprayed it laughing as Ashura fell over right on top of Ryuu, whacking him over the head with his left leg. HA! See, clumsiness wasn't his exclusive domain at all.

"OWWW!" Ryuu howled on the ground, shoving Ashura's leg off and rubbing his head. "Kid, watch those legs!"

"Sorry Nathy," Ashura chirped, giving him a hug because he knew how to use his charms to their greatest advantage. "I didn't mean to!"

Ryuu sighed and half-heartedly hugged back, with a muttered, "I know, I know you didn't. You're too nice to want to hurt anybody but Arthur. But Ashura, you've gotta be _careful_, okay? My friend Suki's brother gave his dad a concussion when he accidentally clobbered him in the head with a ninja kick."

"Your friend's family is a family of ninjas?" Ashura breathed, awestruck and jealous.

"No," Ryuu snapped. "See, Satoshi wants to be an action movie hero, and he was imitating Jackie Chan off the ledge of their stairs, and his dad was walking by. Suki had to call 911 and everything, so the moral of the story is: _be __careful!_ It's all in good fun, until somebody gets hurt."

Ashura nodded seriously, but made a mental note to "practice" some martial arts off the stairs when Taishakuten was walking by.

He was actually coming out far ahead of the jerk. Yes Ashuraou still loved him and refused to listen to reason, but his guilt over his son's distress translated to even more loot for Ashura. Video games, a new bike, a skateboard, an even bigger cage for the elderly Fluffy, toys and toys and more toys, and cake for breakfast: all of these had been given unto Ashura, whee!

And Taishakuten's luck _kept sucking_. He hadn't broken any more bones, but he got a lot of traffic tickets and minor injuries, and Shuratou had buried his smartphone in the garden one day… after it had rained, so the smartphone was no more. His business life was doing well, but he was still incredibly paranoid, and seemed to necessitate a new assistant every month because they were all much worse than Souma.

In fact, right now he was glaring at Penny, the latest of eleven, and thinking, _I never thought I'd admit this, but I miss Nina. She was capable! She was good at holding her tongue, and while all these new ones adore me, they aren't able to handle my demands._

_Oh well, at least I have Hanranya, _he thought, glancing over at her to find her watching him. He graced her with a little smile and a nod, then looked back to Ashuraou and thought, _And once I can be alone with Karl, life isn't so bad at all._

Ashuraou thought so too, except his life outside of his romance was actually pretty good. He did fret over Ashura's continued hatred of his partner, and he worried sometimes that Taishakuten was going to drive himself mad, but he was pretty sure that the CEO could handle it. He was, after all, the strongest person he knew.

Well, except for when Ashuraou tied him up with his tie! He'd managed to do that a year ago, and though Taishakuten had at first freaked out and threatened dire consequences, the god of Tenkai Corporation had discovered that actually, it wasn't so bad. It was kind of thrilling, really, this complete antithesis to the way he usually operated, and Ashuraou was more considerate than he himself was (although he'd much improved on that front). So they were happy, and _surely _they mattered more than everybody else, so who cared if Taishakuten was still a bastard to the rest of humanity? Not Taishakuten and Ashuraou!

Souma watched them smooch with an "Ick" look on her face, and whispered to Kendappa, "Sickening, isn't it?"

"Eh, not inherently," Kendappa shrugged. "I no longer have a beef with him, now that he's left you alone and given you to me. For all I care, he can rope Hanranya in too, and Reginald and Xavier and Shashi, and have a harem of people who aren't my favorite ones."

Souma tried not to think of Ashuraou, Hanranya, Bishamonten, Koumokuten, and Shashi in harem outfits, and predictably failed. She made another face, and hastily switched the mental channel to brushing Kendappa's hair as she played the harp, and that was so very, very much better. Moving in with Kendappa had resulted in joyful joy, to be redundant, and they were happier than Puffball in a land made entirely out of carrots.

And at work, Kendappa and Souma were a powerhouse. Souma was fast catching up to Yasha, and while she'd never be the Best Executive Assistant, she was light-years ahead of Zachary. Her life was practically charmed now; even Tenou was totally cool with her again.

She glanced over to him, and he was playing catch with Ashura and Ryuu. Aw, he was so good with kids! And brash teenagers.

Tenou often thought that when he hit the big-time, he would make sure to keep his songs and stage performances appropriate for all ages. Well, okay, he wouldn't sing songs about homework and obeying your parents, but he wouldn't sing lewd or violent songs either. He would sing songs about friendship, and doing your best, and maybe even about how great pets were. And love, of course lots of that, because that was the biggest inspiration around.

He had written a very touching piece about getting your heart broken and moving on, which Shashi was so proud of and Bishamonten thought deserved to be on the radio. Tenou had demonstrated his maturity, because let's face it, life doesn't always work out the way we hope it will. Sure he'd burned his diary as an exercise in catharsis, but it had worked. He still hadn't found that special someone, but he would someday, and when he did she'd be so impressed with all he'd done with his life.

"Ashura," he smiled helpfully, "you need to hang onto the football longer. That's why you can't throw it far enough."

"Thanks Tenou!" Ashura chirruped, and managed to get the ball to Ryuu this time. Cool, he was getting better at this!

"That little boy is so _sweet_," Kahra sighed to Kumaraten, who was predictably using some hand sanitizer. "And it's also so sweet how Tenou makes sure to play with him, like a helpful and loving big brother. Oh Harold, don't you hope that someday he's able to become a father and have a child of his own?"

"Within the bonds of matrimony, with a woman who's willing to compromise and work things out, and hopefully with as clean a house as possible, sure," Kumaraten agreed cheerfully. "You know, infants are the most susceptible to diseases. It's a miracle they don't all get pneumonia and die."

Kahra shot him a look and chided, "Harold, that was exceedingly macabre. Can't you _please _attempt to look on the bright side? I know you're a glass-half-empty person, but it's not like you watched everyone you ever knew die or anything."

"I _was _looking on the bright side," he snapped in reply, clicking the cap back onto his hand sanitizer with a sharp motion. "I said how amazing it was that so many of them live! Kahra darling, you know that rose-colored glasses are detrimental. If you expect the worst, you're never disappointed," he said almost grandly, having learned that at a pretty early age, and it had served him well.

Kahra let it go and drank some more wine cooler, thinking to herself,_ Harold dear, I love you, but I worry about you sometimes._

She needn't have worried. Kumaraten's life was pretty good, and he was even great pals with Bishamonten. In fact, Kumaraten had gotten to the point of bragging about, "My brother-in-law, the one who makes six figures and was named 'Most Powerful Senior VP in the Nation', told me that I'm a genius the other day. And if Reginald Bishamonten says something, you know it's so."

Actually, Kumaraten was nearing six figures himself, having come up with brilliant, ground-breaking idea after brilliant, ground-breaking idea. He and Kahra had moved into a gated community, which was good, because they'd found more than one crazed literature fan digging through their recycling, for drafts of the much-anticipated Pushing Through the Pregnancy. That book was the sequel to the smash hit Wading Through the Wedding, which now had a fanlisting that rivaled Twilight.

And one of the great things about it was, it was about adults dealing with real-world things, with humor and whacky hijinks yes, but this book was written by a master and had well-rounded characters. And here was the best part: people who knew a bit about writing adored it. See, once one progressed enough to realize what was quality writing and what wasn't, one tended to realize how much bad writing there really was out there. But Wading Through the Wedding was damn good, so good Kahra had great authors calling her up and grinning, "I loved the scene when Liz broke down and Gary thought she'd run away from him."

Shashi had been rather amused by the story, which had a lot of parallels to her own. Not that Liz had gotten knocked up, left Gary for eighteen years, broken up his marriage, and made passionate love with him on a couch on Christmas Eve, but the protagonists Cindy and Alan bore more than a passing resemblance to Kahra and Kumaraten. In true clueless narcissist fashion, Shashi thought Kahra had gone a good job making Liz different than her, with her bitchy demands and conceited attitude. In fairness, though, Kahra had made sure to develop everybody to a point that they were their own characters, not just a reflection of her family.

Hanranya happened to be reading Wading Through the Wedding right now, on her smartphone because there was a lull in the action. Ooh, that lucky Liz, marrying the man she loved. BUT! Hanranya had been given a gift by her much-revered boss, and it was enough to bask in his presence. He did like her, because she had proven her devotion, and eased off on the slavish adoration – when he was looking, anyway.

_Kuyou, _she thought as she looked up at the sky, _you're a fool to have moved on from Karl and married somebody else. Can't you see, love is more powerful when you can't let that person go! I'm stronger than you are, so there. So what if you and Frederic adopted a pair of darling twins? I get to brush lint off Taishakuten's shoulders!_

One would feel sorry for Hanranya, if she wasn't so content with her life.

Ryuu watched her smile blissfully, shaking his head before he caught the football from Ashura. Okay, that lady was unnerving! Middle-aged women were just not understandable to him at all, from Shashi to Kisshouten and everybody in between.

_Okay no, that's not true, _he corrected himself with a mental smile. _I understand Momma perfectly! We're kindred spirits._

Anna had returned from Afghanistan none the worse for wear, and been given an honorable discharge and even a medal. Now, she poured her energy into her new self-defense studio, and her family of course. She and Alexander were the quintessential happy couple, with a mansion of their own and an adoring fanbase, because she cameoed on his show sometimes.

Ryuu was now immensely proud of his parents, because he'd reached the stage in life where going against the grain really _was _admirable. They were true pioneers! They bucked the gender roles in a brave way, and Ryuu had decided that his wife _would _be more macho than he was, but of course he'd still be very macho too. A passive drummer just would not work, as he'd sighed to Suki when she made a joke about that.

"Hey Tenou!" he called with an incorrigible grin, faking throwing the ball just to see what his pal would do. And yep, Tenou instinctively tried to catch it, then realized that there was no ball to catch. Ha, that was funny!

As Ashura giggled and Ryuu chortled, Tenou mock-scolded, "That was immature! And actually kind of hilarious," he added, joining in with the laughter.

Tamara observed Tenou laugh with a sour expression on her face. He wasn't even dating anyone now! His beloved had turned out to be a dyke! And he had _still _turned her down when she'd bugged him again, when they could have made beautiful music together, not just literally either. She might have hated him, if he hadn't been so hot.

Well. Once Tamara was a much-adored prima donna, surely he would come around. She'd just dump whichever boyfriend she was with then, and they probably wouldn't have been dating for very long anyway. After all, she blew though men faster than her dad drove on the freeway, and that was pretty fast. She of course never told her father that, but Aguni had the justified suspicion that her stepdaughter was messing around with college hunks. But screw Aguni! She'd done worse when she was in college, not that Tamara knew that.

Bishamonten too watched his son play with Ashura and Ryuu, and smiled with pride. It was _great _to be the father of such an exemplary young man, and he really wished he'd been able to watch him grow up. That was a major regret, but at least he hadn't been absent on purpose. Heck, if he'd known he had a son, he would have pulled up stakes and moved to New York to be with him. As it was, though, he was more than content to be the dad of the Prince-Bishamonten family.

And once Tenou went back to college, and would probably move out the next year… Bishamonten could be Shashi's sexykins all the time! He could walk around the house wearing only his boxers and a ponytail, while Shashi lounged around in scintillating lingerie. Granted when somebody came to the door they had to pretend they weren't home when they did that, but hey, it was still good.

Being married to Shashi was just good, period. He loved her so much, and she loved him so much in return, and yes she could be a bitch and he could be a son of a bitch, but they were well-matched indeed. So too bad Taishakuten, Bishamonten was indeed quite superior to his boss in Shashi's eyes.

"Ruby," he murmured so only she could hear, "won't you give me a kiss?"

"What will you give me in return?" she bantered back with a smirk. "After all, I'm feeding your me addiction."

"I'll give you the opportunity to show your soulmate how much you love him," he smirked in reply, as he toyed with a strand of her hair. "I'll give you something you're addicted to as well. And if that's not enough, I'll give you the chance to rub our happiness in Taishakuten's face, because he's watching us right now. Not that I want to make him feel bad," he hastened to tack on.

Well, she sure did! She wrapped her arms around Bishamonten's neck and gave him a passionate smooch, one he quickly returned with equal passion. Ooh, he was so good at this! She'd hit the jackpot, and she was lucky to have done that. It had been quite a ride to get to that point, but thanks to a coincidence, a lying CEO, a song, and a pair of meddling Senior VPs, she and her husband had finally gotten what they'd both longed for, for far too long.

He finally broke the kiss, and stroked a strand of hair out of her face with a fond, "I never get tired of that, Shashi."

"Me neither, Reginald," she told him with complete honesty. Could life get any better? She wondered that as she sipped her drink, slipping an arm around Bishamonten's waist. Was that even possible?

"Hey whoa, Mr. Taishakuten just got stung by a wasp. On the arm," Ryuu called to Bishamonten, holding back laughter. "He's freaking out, poor dude."

Shashi downright beamed. Boy, _that _question sure got answered fast.

**End.**

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(AN: I don't know if I mentioned this in "Adele", but these two fics grew out of an old idea I had that I called "Vice-Presidential Affairs", which was basically the male Four Gods and CEO Taishakuten, split into three segments for each Senior VP. Yes, I like them a lot, hush.

It was a lot angstier and quite a bit more serious than this happy pair of fics, although you might've noticed that "Infatuation" had some serious parts, more than all the others. That's because I used a lot of what I'd written for that one. The concept of Kisshouten as an artist was also from "VP Affairs," and that bittersweet little segment ended with her and Bishamonten getting a divorce because he was smothering her. Shashi never showed up or was mentioned in any capacity except as Tai's trophy wife, which is a crime because she's great to write, and I have so much fun with Bishashi despite how canonically ludicrous it is. Funny how I did it on a whim for "Tenkai City", as a background pairing only to add some tension to the story, and now I like it more than Souma/Kendappa, oh dear.

Koumokuten and Aguni's story from "VP Affairs" is one I'm using [with much tweaking] in the next major fic I'll post: "Fourteen People", the sequel to "Four Feathers". And oh man… Kou and Aguni are angsty, angsty [yet violent] little buggers in that one, and she's definitely not a gym teacher there.

"Fourteen People" is basically all the couples I like reincarnated in Tokyo, with Kujaku throwing pairs together so he can find Yasha again. And it's incredibly serious, and often so angsty you almost wanna cry. So yes, stupid pairings ahoy, but in the framework of the manga and agonized over if they make no canonical sense. And of course all the spelled-out canon pairings get pagetime too, even Taishura [but since Yasha/Ashura is never spelled out, I can avoid it, yay!]. I mean, c'mon, writing a fic that's supposed to be a sequel to the manga means I work with what I've been given.

I like it, even though it's in a much darker vein. But there's definitely happy and occasionally funny stuff too, often thanks to our boy Ku. So if any of that sounds intriguing, be sure to read it when it comes out!

Review this thing please, if you haven't already. Reviews make a writer better, so if there was something you hated, please let me know! Or if there was something you really liked, let me know that too. Tata and nga130 are so far the _only _people who've reviewed, which is rather discouraging because a higher number than I'd expected read this thing the whole way through. Obviously, I worked quite hard on this, and now would be a great time to give a little back for the 300+ pages of entertainment. Thanks in advance!)


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